Portrait of the Soul
by SirenOfSaturn
Summary: Mostly Kay based, but Nonreader friendly. An artist comes to the opera house wishing to start a new as a female set designer. After almost falling from a set the opera ghost saves her life, and recieves a gift he never even expected. ErikxOC
1. Eyes behind the mask

Hi there! First off I want to thank anyone who is bothering to read this story. I love POTO, and most of all Erik. I hope this story grabs hold of your enjoyment and encourages you to read on. At this point I am going to try to keep the story Kay based, with a little ALW and Leroux. I also realize that everyone has their own vision of what Erik looks like, but for those of you who are curious to my point of view: The Erik in this Phan phic looks mainly like Gerard Butler (sorry he's too hot not to be) with the Susan Kay based deformity, though for some reason I always picture Erik with half a nose…So that's just so no one gets confused. Also I want to say I own nothing except the character Mia. Please enjoy and please review. Your obedient servant,

Neko

Portrait of the Soul

Her heart was pounding all she could see were those eyes staring down at her. The man dressed head to toe in black looking at her, at least he seemed to be, behind the mask. The feel of his leather gloved fingers digging into her arms began to sting. She knew it was not on purpose that man had just helped her, had he not? Her thoughts raced back to how this happened. How had she encountered the man or ghost? This god or demon?

Mia had her own reasons for coming to the opera house on that auditioning day, however unlike the other fighting Prima Donnas she was there to offer a different talent.

"Excuse me?" She asked an older woman, with long auburn braided hair.

Madam Giry who was busy watching the squabbling girls fight for their chance in the lime light turned to her. "The Prima Donna auditions are going on over there." She motioned with her cane.

"Actually, I am here about the opening for the designer? For the sets?" Mia asked feeling awkward that this lady who had suddenly raised her eyebrow at her. "Oh? You are here for the set design job?"

"Yes Madam…"

"Giry, Madam Giry. I am the ballet instructor here. Please come with me…"

"Mia."

"Mademoiselle Mia?"

"Yes." Mia smiled following the woman. " I do not believe we have ever had a woman set designer. I hope you are up for the challenge."

"I am use to receiving criticism from employers for being a woman in such an area. However, I am always up to the challenge of proving them wrong. Are the managers here very…I better not." Mia sighed looking down at her feet as Madam Giry continued to lead her on.

"Old fashion?" Madam Giry helped.

"Sexiest was my first thought, but yes that term would do-oh!" Mia turned slightly avoiding being collided into by a woman who was running out of the opera in tears.

"Must have gotten turned down." Giry sighed. "Are you alright?" She asked continuing to walk.

"Yes. Is it always this hectic?" Mia asked continuing to follow the ballet mistress.

"Not until rehearsals begin. Today we have auditions for a new Prima Donna. Christine Daae our previous star recently eloped so we are without a star currently."

"She sure picked a interesting time to get married. The season has just begun. Did you not just finish a production of _Faust_?"

"We did. Christine Daae had…her reasons. Here we are Ms. Mia" Giry said opening the manger's door. "M. Richard, M. Moncharmin? This woman is here for her interview."

One of the men, whom Mia assumed was the manager, stood up and walked over. "Madam Giry the Prima Donna auditions are taking place on stage."

"She is here for the set design job."

"I beg your pardon." The other manager asked standing up and walking to face the girl.

"M. Richard, M. Moncharmin? I am Mia Sclar. I brought some sketches if you would care to look at them. I also have a resume from the Opera Talanan in Russia that I use to work for before I came to Paris."

"Talanan?" M. Richard asked, as Mia handed him the resume. "You were the set designer there?"

"Yes Messier." Mia answered watching the managers look at each other.

"Let me see that." M. Moncharmin asked snatching the letter up. "It does not say why you left. Were you dismissed?"

"No Messier. I left on my own, for personal reasons." Mia answered clipping her final words to show she had no intention of going into detail.

"Please understand Mademoiselle, we have no ill feelings about a woman set designer, however it is a lot of work."

"For who?" Mia asked. "As for the hard work of actually building the sets and bringing my designs and ideas to life that is what your stage hands, and scene shifters are for, are they not?" Mia sighed. "Messier. I assure you that my ideas will not only contribute to the opera but also increase its affect. Would the audience have the same feeling if a play like _Faust_ took place on a bare stage with an orange backdrop? I am just asking for a chance." Mia declared digging into her bag and pulling out a folder. "I assure you, you wont be disappointed." With that she handed the managers a few sketches she had made for various production in Russia.

The managers stared at the sketches and handed them back and forth to each other before meeting each other's gaze. "When can you start?"

It had not been easy being the only female designer with an all male stage crew. The new production was coming in a few weeks and things were become more hectic by the hour. After rereading the scenes of the play and speaking to the seamstresses about the costuming it had not taken Mia long to get the designs under way.

Her biggest problem was getting her crew to listen to her. She had handed the main stagehand her sketches along with a very detailed list of instructions of materials and paint colors to be used. So far no one was taking 'the little set designer' as they were calling her seriously. It was around seven o'clock in the evening when the stage crew called it quits and went to their bed, bottle, or women leaving Mia alone.

Frustrated from another day of not being taken seriously she prepared herself to stay late and finish what they would not. "Is it so wrong to want perfection?" Mia asked herself as she continued to paint violet into the 'sky' piece for the scenery. "Why do we need to paint purple in the sky?" The stagehands had frequently asked her.

She just kept asking them about the last time they witnessed an evening sunset that was just plan bright orange.

"Well no sun set is just bright orange Mademoiselle Sclar."

"Then why do you keep painting it that color? We have the paint. Mix some red in there then add blue towards the top to create the violet for a fast approaching night. Surely in your life time you have stopped to watch the sun set." Mia snapped. She hated to lose her temper at work, but they were doing this on purpose. She had to compose herself so they wouldn't get the better of her.

"Well not recently sense you have us here slaving away till nightfall." One stagehand argued. The head stagehand, Theo, elbowed him reminding him that they were talking to a lady, before approaching Mia.

"Listen Mademoiselle, we mean no disrespect, however Rome was not built in a day, right?" He smiled weakly.

"No," Mia sighed. "It wasn't, but it could have been built, destroyed, then rebuilt with in a year if the crew was dedicated enough!"

Regardless to say Mia's outburst didn't help win over the crew considering they left shortly after. Studying the now evening sky that was painted on the scenery Mia gave a satisfied nod. Deciding to go to take a hot bath and go to bed Mia began walking off the stage when out of her peripheral vision she saw something fall. Turning her head she realized a corner of the backdrop had come undone from the rafters of the stage.

Perfection in her work was always important to Mia. Perhaps that was why she climbed the ladder and balanced herself on the catwalk. She began moving slowly on the beam high above the stage holding the corner of the fallen backdrop in her hands. Reaching for the wire to clip the ring attached to the material on Mia thought she saw something else move, something black.

Telling herself she had a long day and her eyes were playing tricks on her Mia continued to reach for the wire, until she realized she was reaching to far. The whole thing happened so fast, but at the same time too slow. Mia felt herself falling; she watched her feet slip off the beams. The feel of gravity pulling at her body as she was pulled down, and then…up.

Mia screamed at first from the falling feeling and then from the tight grip on her arms. Gasping in confusion she turned her head around to see a man dressed from head to foot in black. All that Mia could make out besides the black was a white mask that covered his face from the forehead to just above the lips. Green eyes peered back at her with a gold huge near the pupils. A fire seemed to be inside those eyes, a soul of fire, hidden in those feline like orbs. Mia didn't know what to say. Desperately she tried to move her lips to form a thank you, but nothing came out. She was mesmerized by those eyes.

Just as she had found her voice she heard others rushing into the theatre. The voices were demanding who screamed. Theo the head of her crew who had just been outside the theatre was calling for her. Some other voices were screaming about some sort of ghost. Mia glanced at the man who still had a firm lock on her arms before turning to look at the crowd gathering on stage looking up at her.

"Mademoiselle Sclar? Are you alright?" Theo yelled up. "What are you doing up there?"

'Your job' Mia thought looking back to thank the man who had saved her only to find he was not there. Mia did a circle looking for the man in the mask, almost losing her balance a second time.

"Mademoiselle Sclar, are you mad? Come down here this instant!" Another crewmember called.

"Did the opera ghost attack you?" A chorus girl asked.

"It's the ghost! He's back!" Another one exclaimed.

"Ghost?" Mia mumbled to herself. 'He couldn't have been, I felt him. The grip he had on me was very mortal.'

After climbing down the ladder and explaining that she had been doing her crews job the ballet girls left, and Theo apologized along with promising to have a strong talk with the rest of his men. Mia thanked him for finally coming around and was preparing to leave for that hot bath she promised herself earlier when she heard it. A voice that sent chills down her spine. The voice seemed to whisper softly in her left ear.

"You will do well to take care Mademoiselle Sclar, I would not want my new designer to fall to her death, that would be rather unfortunate indeed." Mia whipped around searching for the voices owner. She expected to see anything: a man, a demon, that man in the mask, but all she saw was nothing. Nothing but the opera house's interior, maybe there really was a ghost.

Thank you once again for reading! All I ask of you is to take two seconds and review. I am paranoid enough to write this considering it is my first Phan phic. I appreciate constructive criticism, but please do realize all flames will be used to light the lamps of the torture chamber. Thank you again and please review if you want to see a second chapter that will have a whole lot of Erik!


	2. Coming to terms and persuasive Persians

Hello! Thank you to all who have read and reviewed! I am looking forward to more comments, and _constructive _criticism. Once again I just would like to put out in the open that I own nothing! Phantom of the Opera, Erik, and all the other characters belong to Webber, Susan Kay, and Gaston Leroux. Please review and enjoy!

Weeks passed and preparation for the new opera continued right on schedule. After sitting down and having a talk with his crew Theo assured Mia that she would have little problems getting her designs through to the men, and Mia…well agreed to be more gentle if they promised to work hard.

After the designer's brush with death the chatter between the chorus girls never seemed to end. Like a flock of chickens in a hen house they continued to cackle during every moment that they were not practicing. Various talks of the opera ghost coming back was burning in Mia's ear, along with that voice that still haunted her. She tried her best to ignore the gossip, until the gossip began to come right toward her.

"Mademoiselle Sclar? Do you know anything about this?" Mia who had been discussing the final scene's background with Theo turned to see the managers Richard and Moncharmin coming towards them. "About what Miseries?" Mia asked lowering the sketch she was showing Theo.

"This." M. Richard said handing her a letter. Mia scanned over the red inked handwriting. The writing seemed so cryptic, and it appeared to look as though it were written in blood.

_My Dear Managers,_

_I am sorry to have left you in suspense sense the last performance of _Faust. _I hope you did not think me gone; I was simply giving thought about our newest production and the crew. In the past you have funded the ballet and Prima Donna. I believe it is time to give both attention and finance to the backbone of the performance. By this I mean the set. Your new set designer Mademoiselle Sclar knows what she is doing. Allow her the opportunity to do as she sees fit so we may all be dazzled on opening night. If she is in need of proper equipment I strongly believe you will provide her with it._

_I remain, once again,_

_Your obedient servant,_

_O.G._

"O.G.?" Mia asked raising a brow. "I do not know anyone by those initials sirs."

"Then you know nothing of this?" M. Richard asked. "Nothing at all? I am talking about the set finances."

"No Miser. I only spoke to Theo last night, as we were finishing that we were in need of some new paints. These are terribly old and dried up. They would surely look repulsive once dried on a new set." Mia commented, recapping the conversation she had yesterday.

"I see." M. Moncharmin commented. "Then I suppose we shall need to buy some more?"

"Yes Miser." Mia answered. "My crew knows exactly what is required."

"Alright then, Theo." M. Richard called turning to the man. "Come to my office after getting an estimate on that paint, let me know what it is, and I'll send you to fetch it with the correct amount of money."

"Yes Misers." Theo nodded, watching the managers walk off just as huskily as they had come in. "Theo?" Mia asked, "Who is O.G. and how did he know we were in need of supplies?"

The redheaded boy sighed looking around to see if anyone was listening. Once seeing that the ballet was in full practice he ducked his head to Mia's and began to tell her what he knew. "O.G. stands for Opera Ghost, or so I'm told. If you want more ask Meg, Madame Giry's daughter, she's the main chicken of that chatting hen house. All I know is he 'haunts' this opera house and is always giving comments to the managers. They even pay him a bloody salary!" Theo sighed. "Some say he's real, and he's ugly, and missing a nose. I've never seen the man. Our old scene shifter use to know a lot about him, but he's dead now."

"How?" Mia asked feeling a shiver up her spine. As Theo was telling her this she felt almost as if she was being watched.

"That's just it. The police wrote it off as a suicide, but…they say the ghost killed him." Theo sighed straightening back up. "Don't worry though, at least he's finally paying attention to us. We are going to get that funding you wanted. If you have any more suggestions you should just start leaving messages in box five." Theo laughed.

"Box five?" Mia asked.

"Yeah, they say that's were he watches the performances, but I was just kidding…you would do best to stay away from there, be a good girl, will ya?" Theo asked.

"Miser Theo! I am not some teenager or child you can talk down to! I am your supervisor, now I thank you for indulging me in such a lovely ghost story, but I believe it is time to get back to work, we have a performance tomorrow do we not?" Mia demanded, snapping right back into her perfection mode.

"Aye, aye Captain!" Theo saluted taking the sketch from her to show the crew. "Theo?" Mia asked picking up the rejected sketches. "You said he was ugly? If no one has really seen him, then how do they know?"

"We all assume, those who have seen him claim he wears a mask." Theo stared watching the papers in Mia's hands scatter to the floor.

Beneath the opera in the fifth cellar a glassy lake rested calm and gentle. The dark waters lapped gently to the shore were a house stood, and in the house there was, not a ghost, but a man. Erik sat at his desk looking through various charcoal masterpieces in his own sketch collection. Usually at this time in the morning the artist would be composing for hours with in the deep confines of his labyrinth, however one of Erik's earliest fascinations was once again residing inside of him, and Erik found he could not bear to ignore it.

Erik sighed flipping through the pictures he had made during his various travels: Russia, Persia, India, and the orient. Erik had seen it all, and built his own contribution to it. After his decision to build the opera house Erik discovered that he was full on the desire to build. He wished to settle down beneath the cellars and compose. Finish his opera, lie in his coffin, and never rise again, it was the perfect plan until Christine.

Feeling his chest tighten slightly, Erik winced at the mere thought of her. The sweet angel who was his dream and his undoing or so it seemed a few months ago. After realizing just how much she loved that boy and not him, he let her go. He still buried himself at night with memories of her greatest gift to him, his first kiss. He knew his life was over. He had nothing to fight for. With the morphine he craved he knew his end was near. One did not take on the assistance of a deadly drug without knowing its fatal effect. He knew the same consequences when he had indulged in the opium.

He spent two days lying in his mother's old bed waiting for death to take him off of this wretched earth. Free him from his suffering and solitude. Surely Hell full of its burning boats was a more welcoming fate than this. Or maybe there was no Hell; maybe death was like a metamorphosis. He would awake and be the butterfly, the snake with its newly shed skin, the spider weaving its web catching the insects who interfered with it and letting the beautiful pass through it like a dream catcher. In India and the orient he had learned of reincarnation, could he not be entitled to that? Could he have his second chance on this Earth, born normal and beautiful like every other human deserved?

Death did not come as Erik had hoped for, instead came the Persian, Nadir.

"How long do you intend to do this Erik?" He had asked pulling up a chair in Christine's former room to look at his old friend.

"Intend to do what, Daroga?" Erik asked continuing to lie on the bed.

"Lay here like a corpse. Ms. Daae has left, you intend to stay give up living and forget your triumphs over that?" Nadir demanded.

"I was once exhibited as a corpse, so I can not entirely take offense to that. As for Christine, I have lost the war, and accept my defeat."

"Erik, I know what you are going through. In fact-"

"Actually Daroga, I do not believe you have the slightest incline of what I am going through!" Erik spat sitting up on the bed.

"Erik, I spent two months locked in my bed chamber when my wife died! I did not get up until I felt better, I just got up!" Nadir spoke, fostering his memories without full detail.

"You had reasons to live. You had a son." Erik reminded.

"Did I have reasons? I could have stayed in there forever until death took me." Nadir sighed. "My servants could have taken care of him. With my death my pension would have taken care of him for the rest of his life…had he not have fallen ill…" The Persian trailed off.

Erik sighed remembering the slow demise of the boy. Erik had watched the boy's sight fail, then the slow detritions of his young muscles, following his demise when he had died in Erik's arms. "Do not dwell in the past, Daroga, all it does is house the bad memories and throw the good ones out on the street. However, my friend, you had a child, as I do not. I still fail to see a reason for my presence on this wretched earth."

"You yourself told me these reasons ages ago." Nadir reminded. "Before the girl, remember. You told me you had your music, your magic, your architecture. Allah only knows what talents and crafts rest in that mysterious mind of yours, Erik. Do not waste them on heart sickness."

"My heart is sick Daroga. Not in the sense you believe, but physically also." Erik sighed. "My attacks have become more frequently sense Christine then they have before."

"How frequent are they now that she is gone?"

Erik began to open his mouth to reply, but paused in his action. They had stopped. One strong attack had come the day she left, but afterwards nothing.

"It is not just your heart Erik. You can stop the attacks if you stop your other addiction." Nadir hinted.

"No." Morphine was what kept him alive. The addiction itself was not what hurt, what hurt was when it was no in him. The brief sting of injection was easy payment for the euphoria it brought. The things it inspired. It had been his only release sense before and after Christine.

"Erik that is going to kill you. I'll help you through the pain and the withdraw. I know exactly how to whine you off of it with in a reasonable period of time."

"Forget it!" Erik snapped.

"I'll stay here if I need to and hold your hand. I saved you once Erik because I believed you were destined to be something great. There is still so much you can be and accomplish Erik. I am not going to let you quit now." Nadir assured squeezing the thin man's bony shoulder.

"…And you call yourself my friend." Erik sighed. "If you really are going to take a walk down this pleasant little path with me, then I guess I should offer you some tea."

Months had passed and the whining had been slow, but far from easy. Nadir had given Erik the morphine when he asked for it, but in small doses. Every week the dosage became less and the nightmares increased. His mother's hatred and Sasha's death, he had once again relived all the memories he had grown to hate. He watched over and over the girl falling off of that building being crushed to death. He watch his bride to be in Persia die in the torture chamber her screams of agony. He watched Christine leave with Raoul…he watched his life become darker than it already seemed.

After several weeks Nadir still continued to visit Erik frequently keeping the morphine with him. However, in the middle of his waiting period Erik needed to get out of his house. Grabbing his cloak and hat, and almost steeping on Ayesha he passed out the door, rowed over the lake, and ran through the passages of his opera house.

The new preparations were underway and things seemed to be running smoothly. 'Damn' he thought he had missed the Prima Donna auditions. He supposed he would for once have to trust his mangers with their own decisions. 'And if they fail me, they shall know' He told himself, smiling for the first time in weeks. Taking his seat in box five to watch the ballet rehearsals was the first time he noticed her. A woman in her mid to late twenties pulling out various sketches and showing them to the design crew.

He knew they were in need of a new set designer, had the managers hired this woman? Erik continued to watch her gesture to the stage obviously sharing with the crew full details of her design. She had long chestnut colored hair that was carefully braided in a French style that fell down her back, until it met her the black skirts around her hips. Erik caught a few glimpses of her front as she continued to talk to the head of the scene crew. He could make out slightly tan, but still fair skin, and brown eyes. Even from this far up Erik could see the blackness of her fingertips obviously covered in charcoal from repeated sketching.

"So, you are my new designer." Erik whispered. "For my managers to hire a woman with their traditional beliefs, you must be something my dear. Let us see your talent. Rise up and dazzle us. Show me you are qualified, show me your glory."

It was something Erik would have thought of any designer or employee of his opera house. If they had worked here, he wanted them to prove they belonged. As weeks went by and Erik watched the sets come to life with something he did not recall seeing with any other designers. Her sets had life, and sparked vivid reality. Which even he had to compliment. She deserved to recognized for talent, especially after how her crew ignored her. Erik could feel the familiar emotion of hatred boil in his blood as he watched her crew walk out on her that day.

All she had asked for was to make the sunset look real. What was wrong with that? Erik watched her after hours working until late to paint night into the upper levels of the fake sky. "Is it so wrong to want perfection?" She had asked herself. 'No my dear, it is not.' He silently answered her. Deciding to return back to his lair for the evening Erik began walking only to have his cloak catch on the backdrop. Giving it a firm tug the cloak went free and so did the backdrop.

Cursing himself silently Erik was about to move to fix it when he realized that she had seen. He was going to put it back up after she left, but as he watched her she seemed to have the same idea. Surprised at first when she proceeded to climb up the ladder, he watched her carry the heavy material up into the beams of his opera house and proceeded to hang it back up. He was even more surprised when he watched her reach to far out and began to fall. Without thinking Erik had come out of his hiding place, only a few feet away from her, and grabbed her fiercely by the arms.

He watched her come to terms that she did not fall then watched in horror as she turned around to face him. The first thing her eyes seemed to focus on was his. Not the normal reaction Erik was use to. All eyes at once had gone to his mask. That had always been the case no matter what the encounter. Her brown orbs staring into his emerald and gold depths as if asking…No she was merely startled from the encounter.

He watched with mild curiosity as she tried to form some sort of speech. All he had heard her say in their encounter was a scream as she began to fall. Now her lips were trying to form some other words. Maybe it was another scream of horror, of fear. Dreading to hear her reply to his presence he was grateful when people came to see what had happened. Silently releasing his grip on her, he had disappeared back into the shadows watching her talk to some of the crew and then prepared to leave. As he watched her go he used his ventriloquism like he had with managers and whispered into her ear his concern and advise for working for him.

Erik stretched at his desk, putting his arms over his head not stopping until he heard a few pops from his bones. Tomorrow was the opening night of the new opera and he was determined to see her work. Her vivid designs had reminded him how much he use to love architecture and designing his own buildings and interiors. Briefly wondering if she shared a love for architecture Erik stood and walked over to his easel. The sketches of Christine were gone, and replacing it was a memory of his great palace in Persia.

Picking up his charcoal pencil in his left hand Erik began to draw out his memory. Losing himself in the building that had come from his dark mind, and flowed out of his calloused hands, into stone and sand. For a brief second he could smell the hot desert air and hear the sound of metal clanging as people continued to build his work. He sighed letting the memories clear into the cold, unfeeling charcoal sketch that was now on his canvas. Memories could be cruel indeed.

Like it? Hate it? Want to see me dead and never update again? Let me know. Please take two seconds to click the little purple button and review. Once again, I own nothing except for Mia and any other original characters. I don't plan on having a lot. I just needed to give the head of the design crew a name: Theo. So I hope you all enjoyed. I have spent the past two hours writing this chapter and now it is time for me to go to bed. Thank you to all who reviewed, and please continue to do so. Here is my list of demands:

Reviews-wanted

Constructive criticism- accepted

Flames- used to light the lamps of the torture chamber

Next chapter, Opening night both opera ghost and designers are there. After Mia pays a visit to box 5 she leaves Erik with something he never thought he would receive. Till next time.

Your obedient servant,

Neko


	3. Surprise

Hello again. Well all though there have been very little reviews I am trying to not let that keep me from writing. So here we go with chapter 3.

Opening night was tomorrow and everything was in place ready to go. At this point most of the cast and crew were taking it easy and trying to rest up for the next day, all except for Mia. Theo's story of the opera ghost having a mask was keeping her up. Lying in her bedroom in the opera house she rolled over on her side once again thinking about the masked man that saved her.

"Those eyes." Mia whispered. It was all she seemed to think about. Never in her life had she seen eyes so intense, so mesmerizing. She was beginning to wonder if this masked ghost was even real. 'But he had to be.' Mia thought, 'I felt his hand, certainly a ghost can not grab a person, or write a letter.' Another question that still kept the artist awake was why he had demanded the new funding for the sets. Theo had mentioned before that the ghost considered this his opera house. Maybe he just wanted to make the performance perfect?

"Yes." Mia said sitting up in bed. "Perfection. There is nothing wrong with wanting perfection." Mia told herself. "Then I shall have to give him perfection in turn for saving me." Grabbing the black smock that lay by her easel Mia put on the garment and picked up her charcoal. It was going to be a long night, but perfection was something that would not be put off until tomorrow.

Even though the lake was not too large, the row to Erik's always seemed like a long one to Nadir. Then again all journeys with Erik had seemed long. When the Persian had first brought the magician with him from Russia Nadir had planned a short route by boat. Oh no! Erik who would not travel like a piece of luggage insisted on journeying by land. Fearing of losing the man he was sent to get Nadir had followed, also by horse, causing the once short journey to turn into months of endurance.

Yes, Nadir had known Erik a long time, which seemed even longer than it actually was. Erik had that ability. One day with him could make you feel like you had been in his company for hours. The impression Erik gave people was so astounding, so unusual; it lasted in a stranger's memory for eternity.

Rowing the boat on to the shore, and pulling it up slightly so it wouldn't float away, Nadir knocked on European's door. After waiting a minute the Persian had not received an answer. Hesitantly the daroga walked into the house to find Erik in the drawing room standing in front of his easel staring at the creation on it. Erik's gaze seemed almost melancholy.

"I was surprised you did not greet me outside like usual." Nadir stated hanging his coat next to Erik's cloak on the hanger.

"I knew it was you." Erik mumbled still transfixed on the drawing. "The bell went off for the lake, and I knew you were coming tonight around this time anyway. Forgive me for not greeting you in proper fashion, but you seem to have found yourself in just fine."

"Yes well, considering that the first words out of your mouth were from your usual tone, and not anger for morphine…am I wrong to assume that things are getting a little better?"

"Perhaps." Erik sighed. "I'm just trying to find other ways to preoccupy myself."

"That's never been a problem for you." Nadir reminded.

Erik did not respond, and continued to gaze at the canvas. "Is something wrong Erik?" Nadir asked walking up behind him to see what was on the canvas.

"Did you ever see it?" Erik asked, gesturing to the canvas. "After all my palace was built with in a close distance from your former home."

Nadir sighed. "I regret not. The last time I was there was that night you asked me to take you there, when you were poisoned." He reminded.

Erik nodded. "I suppose after my escape and your imprisonment, you wouldn't have had time to fancy a look. With all the wars that have been going on in that area recently…I can't help but wonder what has become of my creation. If it has been destroyed."

"It's possible." Nadir suggested handing Erik his narcotic. "I believe you are down to 5/10 this week?"

"Yes." Erik sighed going to his desk to scrounge up the needle and syringe. Filling it up to his shorter dosage, Erik stuck himself, slowly exhaling as he injected the liquid into his system. Closing his eyes Erik leaned back into his chair waiting for the serenity to set in. Waiting for the release that would take him from the hell full of burning boats, and into a heaven full of music and beauty.

"You were looking at your old sketches?" Nadir asked picking up some that were on the floor and studying them. "I thought after you built the opera house you would never design again."

"So did I." Erik sighed leaning his head back into the chair as the drug began to relax him. "My new set designer has a real talent though. I dare say it brought back some of the old memories. Now I keep remembering how much I loved it."

"He must really be something." Nadir commented.

"She is."

"A woman?" The Persian asked. "Isn't that a little unusual?"

"Yes, I thought so to, but if you could see what she's been doing for the sets you would forget that. She really does have talent daroga. Mademoiselle Sclar has strong character too; she just needs to learn to let some of the work be done by her crew. If I had not been there she would have fallen to her death. Most tragic indeed. Then I would not have my lovely sets. Would I?" Erik smiled now higher than a cloud.

"Fallen?" Nadir seemed horrified. "Erik what did you do?"

"Oh Daroga, you are a retired daroga…stop being so suspicious." Erik smiled as Ayesha jumped in his lap, head-butting him for attention. "You'll kill yourself if you worry so much about things that don't concern you." Erik remarked petting the feline.

"Erik."

"This is my time now Daroga, and I wish to spend it alone. You may leave now." Erik said giving a wave of his hand.

Sighing the Persian grabbed his coat and the morphine and went for the door. "Perhaps when you are not at leave with your senses you will let me know what happened with the set designer?"

"My dear Daroga, I am in perfect reach of my senses." Erik said petting to the right of the cat instead of directly on her. "You silly feline, why do you keep moving?"

Sighing Nadir closed the door and made his way back to the boat.

It was nearly time for the curtain to rise when Mia cautiously walked past the box entrances. It was hard enough for a non-ticket holder to get to the floor even if she did work at the opera house. However, nothing would stand in her way tonight to show her gratitude. Passing by box three and four, Mia knew box five was the next one. His box. The ghost's box, the box that belonged to that man in the mask. Stopping just in front of the curtains Mia sighed looking down at her feet. If her mother was here she knew just exactly what she would say. "What are mashugana? Going into the box of a man you don't even know? He could be a murderer or a crack nut!" Mia shook her head. That was her mother's voice not hers. Surely the man could not have been that bad. He had saved her after all. He also had the opportunity to do whatever he wanted. Mia had felt defenseless when she was in his grip, and knew that if he wanted to he could easily over power her.

Sighing Mia also remember the other thing her mother told her. "One thank you can sometimes satisfy a thousand acts of kindness." He had been kind. After that he had demanded the design department's funding. 'Well if a thank you is worth a thousand acts, then maybe a picture will be worth a thousand thank yous.' Mia thought. She opened the curtain to box five. Finding it empty she stuck the scroll case she was caring between the armrests of the chair then preceded to walk away to back stage so she could watch the opera.

It was almost a half hour before the curtain went up when Erik awoke from his happy daze. It was not uncommon for him to sleep a long time after indulging himself in the drug. Standing up stiffly, from falling asleep in the chair, Erik stretched then proceeded to dress for tonight's opera.

Once his topcoat was on and his mask was in place Erik grabbed his cloak off the hanger and preceded to the surface of his opera house. Taking extra care to stay hidden in the shadows Erik managed to dodge other people's gazes. Opening night meant plenty of people lounging about and the last thing Erik wanted was to be seen. Approaching the floor where his box was located Erik was about to dash in when he saw someone standing in front of it. It was Mia holding what appeared to be a scroll case. 'What the devil is she doing?' Erik thought, watching her stare at the floor. She seemed to be thinking very heavily about something.

After watching her stand there a few minutes she finally shook her head and went into his box. Erik watched from the shadows wondering if she was planning to stay in there and watch the performance. His question was answered when he watched her quickly walk out of the box empty handed, and went downstairs.

Curiously Erik walked into his box, seeing nothing. Wondering briefly if maybe she hid the case on her as she walked out Erik was about to sit in his chair when he noticed the case. Picking up the container, and sitting down Erik uncapped the object and reached inside. Out of the case he pulled out a rolled up sheet of sketching paper. Unrolling the paper a sealed letter fell out. Erik was about to reach for the letter when his eyes caught what was on the sketch paper: a fully done charcoal portrait of himself.

What do you think? Like it? Hate it? Honestly I don't know myself. It really helps to know other peoples opinions so I know if there is anything I should add in the writing. So please if anyone does read this please leave a review! I am paranoid enough just from having a friend read this. Please let me know! Points at Erik You're an intimidating character to write!

Erik: "Oh for God sake review before she has a panic attack."

Author curls up into the fetal position "You're mean."

"You're pathetic."

"…And?"

Please review!


	4. Unexpected events

Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for all the reviews. In all honesty I got more than I expected. That's a lot considering I wasn't expecting any at all. Thank you so much they really help give me a feel on how to write. It helps a lot to know that people out there are reading this and actually enjoying it. So without further delay I give you chapter four! Oh, and please remember to review when you are finished reading. Thank you!

Neko

Opening night was a huge triumph to say the least. The applause of the audience became a familiar sound to the cast and crew as the curtain went up and down between acts. However, the gay delight that was filling most of the opera house did not find its way to box five.

Erik, half-listening, to the performance continued to stare at the portrait. His gaze remained stuck between shock and…delight.

A gift. The only gifts Erik had ever received had been few. Giovanni's compass had been one of the few gifts he had received out of true kindness. The mask from his mother was more of a gift to herself. If he wore it she would not have to look at his born curse. 'But she did this for what reason?' He asked himself.

The portrait was like a mirror. When Erik first looked at it he did not notice that it was charcoal, and had no color. He could have sworn he was staring at his masked reflection. From his shoulders to the top of his head was sketched to scale reflecting his tall slender frame. The smallest bit of skin on his neck showed where his cravat was tied slightly loose. Resting on the thin neck was his head hidden by the white mask that covered most of his face from the forehead down to his misshapen lips. The mask was left surprisingly white except for a few bits of shadowing done to emphasis what normal parts of his face should be under it.

One thing Erik could not get over was his own eyes. Beneath the mask she had captured the slight misshape of them. However, the drawing seemed to focus more on the depth of each eye. Erik could see his lids and lashes, the iris, and the pupil. Erik knew that the odd color did have a tendency to jump out at people, but now he had a clear picture why. In the corner of the picture where the background shadowing ended was the date and a free signature of _Mia_.

Gazing out to look at her sets Erik noticed there was no one on the stage. The audience was no longer in their seats. He really must have been out of touch with his senses. Silently rising to leave Erik picked up the letter that had fallen out of the scroll case and departed for his underground domain.

Once Erik had safely and securely hung the sketch out to study he went to his desk to tend to the letter. Removing the seal and carefully opening the envelope Erik began to read the letter.

_Monsieur Opera Ghost,_

_I do hope that this letter does find you and that it finds you well. I also would like to begin to say what I do not know how to say. Monsieur, words cannot express how grateful I have become of your presence. It was your presence that first saved my life, and is now helping make my work a perfection. I admit I am still somewhat baffled and surprised of how the managers listen to you. However, seeing as we now have the supplies to make the sets come to life, I have no reason to protest. An artist such as I has always dreamed of having the ability to do something as grand as this. _

_Monsieur I just wanted to let you know, that your help has helped me further grasp my dream, and strive to the perfection I had only dreamed of accomplishing. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support and generosity._

_Sincerely,_

_Mia Sclar_

Erik, for one of the few times in his life, felt dumfounded. In one night he had received an actual gift, and now a letter that was praising him? She was grateful? Any man would have surely assisted a woman in need, or at least a gentleman! Besides was it not his best interest to have the best sets for his opera house? If she did not have the right supplies then his sets would spoil the effect. Mademoiselle Sclar had talent, he only thought it was right to do everything to bring it out.

Maybe it was not right. After all in his life Erik was not the best at deciding the difference between right and wrong. In truth it was one of his worse qualities. Silently considering this Erik still wondered what had possessed this girl to thank him. Thanking him! For his 'support and generosity'. As she so tenderly put it, like she was writing to a dear old friend. He was not her friend. They had had one acquaintance strictly by accident. The only benefit he had out of their meeting was that had he not been there he would have received a new set designer, with not half the talent!

Why had she thanked him? He was a monster. A horrid, murdering extortionist of a monster, why was she so damn grateful? Erik could not control his feet the just seemed to move without his knowledge. He did not know where they were taking him. All the French man could think about was if her sincerity would fade if she knew who he really was. Would she still have drawn that portrait, ever detail perfect, if she knew what lay behind his mask? Would she have captured the angle of his mismatched eyes, his marred flesh, and half grown nose?

Erik was about to shout these very questions when he realized were his ranting had brought him. There he stood in the dormitories of the crew of the opera house. He had also learned in his observation that the door he was standing in front of was the door to Mia's room.

Erik looked down at his gloved hand. Gripped in the thin fingers had been his master key. Was he really going to open her door, and start ranting at her? Wake her from her slumber to question her for giving him a simple gift?

It wasn't simple though, not to Erik. This gift was given to him out of her own free will. Erik knew and had expected nothing of her. She had accomplished something that few people had ever done. She had surprised him. The thrill of surprise was becoming contagious Erik observed. He had come down here without realizing it. Now he found himself quietly unlocking her door and slipping inside her room.

A quick observation told Erik she was asleep. The gas lamp was out, and she was lying in her bed breathing gently and deeply. Lying on her side one hand stood tucked under the pillow while the other curled and rested on breast covered by her night garment. Erik noted that this was the first time a woman had ever slept so soundly in his presence. What the hell was he doing? Sneaking into this woman's room in the middle of the night? Watching her sleep? The part of Erik that was still in reach of his senses told him to leave. However, the other part told him it was his opera house and his set designer. Did he not have some right to be here?

'No I do not.' Erik scolded himself turning around to leave. Not looking were he was walking Erik felt something slide under his boots. The thing let out a piercing scream, causing Erik to lose his footing and fall, very un-Erik like, with a thud on the ground.

Sitting up immediately trying to straighten himself in a mess of cloak limbs, Erik found the source of his fall. Sitting on the edge of the bed was an orange tabby cat, angrily swishing its tail. The slightly crossed gold eyes seemed to stare though Erik. The feline let out a low growl, which was quickly ceased as a hand came to pet the mammal. Erik followed the hand to an arm, and then a shoulder, until he took in the full person of Mia. Normally well-bound hair fell loose and wild over her shoulders and down her back.

Watching her eyes Erik noticed that unlike last time the first thing she focused on was the mask. Then her eyes seemed to shift to his shoulder, then his eyes, then back to the mask. Erik was beginning to wonder if she was in need of spectacles when he realized she was still half asleep. Her frequent eye movements were just poor attempts to get her vision to focus.

Erik was about to attempt to sneak away and out of the room when her voice caught him.

"Did you not like the portrait?"

Big sigh. How was it? Good? Bad? It really is a challenge to write Erik especially sense his moods can shift in the blink of an eye. However, I hope I captured him to meet everyone's standards. I am in between moving for the summer right now, so I will try to get the next chapter up ASAP. I promise my computer will be the last thing I pack and the first thing I unpack. So I apologize if there is a long delay. Once again thank you for all the reviews! I was not expecting so much support from so many people. Thank you and I would appreciate it if more reviews came! Hint, hint!

Erik/mock shock/ I think she's trying to hint something.

Why are you so mean to me?

Erik: You write me that way

…No I don't! You just come out that way!

Erik: sure

Sigh, please review


	5. Questions

**Yea! Okay I moved up to N.C. state…out of Florida for the summer. So move was successful and most of my stuff was in tact. Thank you for all the reviews. I think only other writers can understand just how much they encourage and help! So thank you again. Once again phans I own nothing except Mia and a few other original characters I don't plan to have many…unless Mia's family comes into play. However, that would be a long while away if I even choose to do that, which you know nothing about moving on. Thanks for the reviews and support! On with chapter five!**

**Erik this is chapter five, isn't it?**

**Erik: It's your own damn story keep track**

**Err…five!**

Various sketches littered the floor of Erik's drawing room. Many of the papers had been sketched in different lands. Some of the papers were brand new, freshly smeared charcoal staining Erik's hands in evidence. Inspiration was pouring through him, much like it had ten years ago, and before that, during his years in Persia.

Mia's words and presence during their midnight conversation had stirred inside him, building memories and creativity Erik nearly forgot he could harvest. Cradling his now red left hand Erik backed away from his easel to the sofa to calm himself. Sense dawn broke he had left the artist's room and had gone into a blind zone of inspiration.

Erik felt the same way when he composed. For days he would go without food or sleep just to sit up and finish one more overture. Now he felt the same passion, but in an old familiar form. One he had neglected for far too long.

"Did you not like the portrait?"

Those words had frozen the architect in his plan of escape.

"Of course if an opera ghost such as yourself taste runs in other artistic fields, maybe you didn't. Perhaps your taste does not consist of the two-dimensional arts? I just assumed it did. After all you wanted our crew team to be funded. It was just a guess that you had a liking toward the field."

"Insolent woman!" Erik hissed standing up. "Do not assume anything about me! You who do not even know me. I can assure you that my artistic taste runs quite wide." Erik smoothed his last words to a cool tone.

"Really?" Mia inquired sitting up more. "What tastes might that be, monsieur? If you don't mind, I would love it if you would indulge me." She pressed pushing the hair past her shoulders and pulling the blankets up around her chest in a modest gesture.

Erik did not indulge he laughed. "You, my dear mademoiselle, are really something. Are you mad or dumb? Why do you not cower in fear? Why do you inquire for my skills rather than my mask?" Erik interrogated stepping closer to her bed. He slightly began to lean over her. "You have a beautiful cat, does it have your tough?"

"I did not ask about the mask because it is not what interests me." Mia replied, feeling slightly crowded she stood out of her bed on the opposite side. Trying her best to stand tall in her shorter frame she continued. "As for being afraid I am not! Why should I fear the man who saved my life?"

"Because he is not who you think."

"Then who is he-you?" She stuttered slightly, trying not to let him intimidate her.

Erik remained silent. His green-gold eyes continued to observe her. "You are perhaps the third woman I have met who does not completely back down from me."

"Being a minority in a work force full of, the so called 'stronger sex', will do that to you." Mia huffed. "Now if you don't mind, I believe I have answered your questions, but you have not answered mine."

"If you truly care to know who I am." Erik paused seeing her nod for him to continue. "I am." Erik began before halting. What was he doing? Was he just going to tell her everything, this person, this woman he had know for a few minutes. "The phantom of the opera."

"I figured that out myself." Mia sighed. "You forgot to mention a mortal phantom at that. I meant what is it you do? Your tastes?"

"I am an architect, a designer, a magician, a composer, a ventriloquist, an artist-"

"An actor?" Mia inquired. "Because this is a damn good act. Have you really perfected all these fields?"

"Is their nothing wrong with wanting perfection?" Erik replied.

Mia turned away. "You heard me?" She mumbled.

Erik's mask hid a small smile. He could not help it seeing the small blush rise on her slightly tan skin. "I did, and I agree with it. Very much in fact."

Mia looked back at him, making eye contact. "Indeed. I figured that is why you ordered the funding."

"Partly. I believed you needed all the materials you required to bring the sets to life." Erik shrugged breaking their gaze, and looking at the floor.

"So." Mia started pulling on her robe. "Did you like it?"

"The sets were lovely."

"Thank you, but I meant the portrait." Mia smiled.

Erik looked up. He had nearly forgotten the reason for his rampage into her chamber. Where to begin? He thought. "If you don't mind. I answered several of your inquiries, and I was wondering if you would answer one of mine. Just a short one, before I answer yours." Erik reassured seeing a small frown appear on her face.

Mia nodded. "Sounds fair. Ask away." The artist challenged crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why did you sketch the portrait?"

Mia took a visible step back in surprise. Her eyes widened slightly, and her eyebrow raised. "Why?" She repeated.

"Are you hard of hearing?" Erik snapped. "Must I repeat myself? Why would you sketch me? My cursed face? Or if I dare go into detail, my cursed mask? My misshapen lips? Why would you draw something that secretly wants to make you wretch?"

"It does not! I have a younger brother! At home he would put things in my bed while I slept. I have no reason to fear what I cannot see! Even if I did have a clear view of what lies beneath your mask that has nothing to do with the reason behind my drawing!" Mia yelled.

Erik leaped at her, grabbing her by her tensed shoulders, as her pushed her to the wall. Digging her form closer to it, he leaned over her. "Then what, if I may ask?" Erik hissed, his words low and lethally edged. "Was that reason?"

Mia tried to remain tall, but Erik could still see the slight tremor of her pupils. Eyes could give away all covers and acting. The brown eyes met his in a timid answer. "To thank you."

Now Erik's eyes widened. The gold slowly vanishing leaving green irises, as his grip loosened on the girl's shoulders. Slowly he backed off, giving her room to step away. "Why?" He whispered looking down.

"For saving me." Mia whispered, rubbing her shoulder where his grip had been. "I-I know I have only been in France a short time. However, is it so wrong to say thank you here?" Mia asked. "Is that wrong here? Does it not agree with you?"

Erik looked again into her eyes. Her voice held no insincerity, and neither did her brown orbs. "No. It does agree with me."

Mia smiled. "I'm happy to hear that."

Erik watched her smile, the simple movement of the muscles complementing her face. Had Christine ever smiled like this in his presence? Had any woman? Was any woman ever happy, simply because they agreed with him? Feeling overwhelmed with feeling Erik stumbled back slightly.

"Are you alright?" Mia asked, stepping closer.

"Do not waste concern on me." Erik breathed. "I am sorry for intruding on you, and waking you from your sleep. I will leave you now." Giving a slight bow he moved towards the door. The second his gloved hand rested upon the handle was when she stopped him.

"Wait!"

Erik turned to his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge he had heard her.

"Two short questions, please?"

"Yes?" Erik sighed, desperately wanting to run to the comfort of his own home. Back to his own home, with his own cat, and his own solitude.

"You never answered, about the portrait, did you like it?"

"I thought I was clear about that." Erik mumbled to himself. "I did, and I swear to cherish it. I shall cherish it with the respect of its quality and it's symbolic meaning. Question two?" Erik pressed.

"Will I see you again?"

"What?" Erik let go of the doorknob, now turning completely to face her.

"I-Will you come back? Here? To talk?" Mia gestured as she spoke, if she was not trying to appear anxious she did not hide it well.

"Why?" Did she want more? More of his temper? His rudeness? What person in their right mind would freely indulge themselves in the company of his mad person? No one! He had misread her. She was asking if he would return out of fear. She did not want him here at all.

"I never did hear of all your perfections. You never did indulge of them as I asked." She confessed.

He had not. She did want him to come back. By her own free will, no strings attached. She did not have any favors in return. She just wanted the presence of his company, to indulge her of his so-called accomplishments and fields. What was next, would she ask him to tell a tale or two?

"Perhaps. I will come back." Erik answered slowly. "Perhaps I wont. It all depends, I try not to make promises." His hand once again on the door's knob he slowly turned it until it opened. Peeking his head out slowly the coast was clear. He bid her good night and was taking his first step when she interfered with his departure once more.

"I lied!"

"About what?" He snapped whipping his head around.

"About the questions. Just one more."

"Oh, of course!"

"What is your name?" She asked ignoring his cold sarcasm.

Turning around and stepping half way out the door he replied. "Erik, my name is Erik. Be warned that few know my name, and if more find out by your tough you will cease to have one."

"Is that so?" Mia asked slowly, looking down at the floor.

"Mademoiselle, you ask far too many questions. I am afraid I can not answer that."

"I understand." Mia sighed. "It was terribly rued of me. I am sorry."

"Don't be. I suppose this just means that I will have to at one point answer these numerous questions, on my next visit."

**/Cracks fingers/ Well, that's it for chapter five. Everyone like? Hate? I love the challenge of writing Erik's character. I just hope it was up to the high expectations of you phans. So I ask you all to indulge me, with a review. Once again I am always grateful, you have no idea how much they both encourage and help. Have a good day, and see you in chapter six! I remain your obedient servant,**

**Neko**


	6. Tea?

**Okay here we go! Chapter six! So you should know the drill by now! Erik what do I own?**

**Erik: Nothing but her original character Mia, and a few others.**

**Erik do I own you?**

**Erik/laughs/**

**Figured. So thank you all for the reviews! I hope you keep it up after reading this chapter. A fare warning, I very rarely plan the details of my chapters in advance. Someone asked me this, and the answer is no. I can't tell you what exactly is going to happen. In all truth I think that ruins the story's affect. So please read and review, including all you ghost readers! So here is chapter six, enjoy phans!**

"Tea?"

When Mia offered Erik the beverage he paused to wonder if he had ever been asked that before. Had he, in over fifty years of life, been asked if he wanted tea? Had anyone ever offered? Running over a mental checklist Erik tried desperately to recall. His mother had never offered him anything, or for that matter gave willingly. Under the roof of the man he remembered as father, the rules had always been self serve. Nadir Khan's house was always warm to Erik, but as he remembered Nadir had always served Erik tea without giving any request.

"Yes." Watching the artist walk to the side of her room that housed the small samovar Erik continued to look over some of her sketches. After two solid days of thinking about Christine, and sets, and all of his pervious encounters with woman Erik had decided that not returning to Mademoiselle Sclar's room was for the best. However, around the fourth hundred pace through his bedroom, he had recalled every detail of their previous encounter.

Erik searched his memory, retraced every step he might have taken in her room. The entire time, that Mia had been fully awake, her eyes never wandered to his mask. Direct eye contact was held, unless Erik purposely tried to break it.

Their conversation had also roused him from going forth with his decision. She was very headstrong and unlike any woman Erik had heard of or encountered. The khanum had by far been one of the boldest women he head ever met, but Mia was far more different. He could tell by her designs and the tone of her voice that she was full of passion. He recognized that passion all artists in all forms possessed this passion. Erik possessed it in many fields, Christine despite Erik's earliest beliefs had possessed it. With much training and, to Erik's dismay, patience Christine's full potential had come out. It was only by her passion to triumph with voice that allowed her to succeed. Erik had just been her angel of music, the one who encouraged her. That was all he was to her. Nothing more now, now she had her fop, her Raoul.

That very thought had caused Erik to halt his pacing. Christine did not need him. Erik had come to terms with this weeks ago, and now he was living for himself. Could he not share his artistic accomplishments with a fellow artist, if not for her but for his own will?

Perhaps the lack of morphine was making him behave more irrationally and more out of his senses then he realized.

Despite what the truth might have been Erik had shown up at her door shortly after nightfall.

"I-I didn't expect you to come back, especially through the door." Mia commented letting him in and shutting the door.

"If your being honest, then so shall I. I did not plan on returning, at least this soon. You are also right. I feel awkward coming in through that door. Too many people lurking about." Erik sighed already plotting other ways to get in the room. She did have a mirror. Why let a classic die?

"I figured that might pose a small issue for your situation." Mia spoke rushing past Erik to tidy up. "You'll have to excuse this mess." She sighed picking up some sketches that littered the floor near her easel. "I've been in Paris a few months, but I have yet to get some things in a proper place."

"It's quite fine. In fact if those are your sketches, I would not mind terribly if you left them out." Erik requested looking at the orange cat that he had stepped on a few nights before. The tabby was looking at him with mild curiosity as it kept its place on the bed.

"You wish to see them?" Mia asked in a slight timid voice Erik had not heard from her before.

"If you don't mind."

"N-no! Of course not!" Mia stammered spreading them out on the bed beside the cat. "Some of them are rather old, some are from when I was a child."

Erik nodded looking at some of the yellow edged papers. "I do believe there is a rule about having animals in the opera house dormitories." Erik commented gesturing with his head to the feline.

Mia froze and turned to stare at him. The look on her face reminded Erik of a child who just had its candy taken away. "You-you wouldn't say anything, would you?"

"My dear, who would I tell?"

"The managers."

"No I would not." Erik turned away looking at a sketch of an elderly woman. "I don't like them. Besides I love cats." He smiled below the edge of his mask, as he scratched between the feline's ears.

"I figured." Mia smiled. "So you have one then?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

Mia opened her mouth to answer, but instead a laugh came out. Her laugh was so natural and melodic. It was pure music in Erik's ears. "Let's just say your cloak gave it away."

Snapping out of his daze the opera ghost looked at the ends of his cloak. He had noticed Ayesha was clawing lately; it was only a matter of time before a tore end would appear on his carpet to match his cloak. 'Oh well' it was only another thing for Erik to add to his list of things for Jules to bring him next month.

"Tea?" Erik lifted his head. It was a strange question for him to be asked, but he would accept her offer.

"Yes." He watched Mia walk over to the samovar to prepare the drink as he continued to flip through her sketches. They were incredible. Most were designs Erik recognized from the sets, however some looked like they were met for a home. A few of the oldest looking papers held portraits of strangers to Erik's eyes while others seemed so familiar.

Picking up one sketch Erik began to study every detail. It was a small group of children playing bare foot in the streets. Not recognizing any of the background Erik inquired, "Was this done in France?"

Mia who had been searching for a cup took a brief glance at the picture before replying. "Oh, no. That was not sketched far from the market area near my home. The children in my town use to play there all the time."

"And where is home?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Russia." Mia smiled handing him a cup of the steaming liquid with lemon. "Russian tea is alright then?"

"Yes. This is what I prefer." Erik accepted bringing the cup to the misshapen lips that rested below his mask.

Both remained in silent company simply sipping their tea. The anticipation of speech was in the air, but neither had given into the temptation. Mia continued to sip her tea standing, eyes remaining on the floor. Slightly bewildered on what to do or say Erik continued to look at her sketches. She was no longer making eye contact. Was she troubled by his presence? He did not exactly give notice that he would show up at all, nonetheless tonight. Wondering if he should make his excuses and leave, Erik noticed once again the orange cat sitting on the bed.

"I never did inquire your room mate's name?" Erik gestured with his free hand to the bed.

"Oh," With mentioning of the cat, Mia looked up at once into Erik's eyes. "You may call him Brian, or mashugina kitty."

"Mashugina?" Erik asked remembering his Russian. "Ah I see, Jewish."

"Well, my mother was. So yes, technically I am Jewish."

"What about religiously?" Erik inquired.

"So are we back to the questions?" Mia laughed.

"Perhaps. However, my dear, this time we will alternate one question in turn, agreed?"

"Agreed." Mia nodded. Each took a sip of their tea in silence.

"Well?"

"You asked your question already." Mia reminded, "Now it's my turn, I was merely thinking of one."

"No. You still did not answer my question about your religious preference." Erik pointed out.

"Ah, but you first asked the question about my cat's name, and before that where my picture was drawn, and where my home was. So ha!"

"Ha?"

Mia let out her small laugh again. "Yes, ha! I am right, am I not?"

Erik smiled. "I suppose you are."

"So then Monsieur Erik, are you ready for my first question?"

"Fire away."

**/Stretch/ Okay there you go! I'm not so sure about this chapter, so let me know if you guys liked it or not. Once again your reviews really do help! So please leave me some. I promise you phans that if I get lots of reviews I tend to update quicker…possibly by Friday. Hey, No promises, but soon! So you'll have to review!**

**I outsmarted them Erik! Bribery is the key!**

**Erik: You poor pathetic girl…**

**I know, college students are broke!**

**Erik: No I met poor as in…oh hell, never mind.**

**What?**


	7. Ask not about the mask

**Yea! I got reviews! I know this may be tiring to all of you, but I really do enjoy them! They help me a lot! Erik, do you know how many people were trying to guess Mia's first question?**

**Erik: Yes, every time you got a review you ran screaming. 'Erik, Erik! I got a review!' And made me read it.**

**Sorry. If I knew that many people were going to guess, I would have put out a cookie for a reward or something, or at least a kiss from you.**

**Erik: Don't even think about it.**

**Sigh, well anyway I own nothing but a few OC's so without further delay I give you chapter…**

**Erik: seven**

**Seven! By Friday as promised!**

**Erik: It's Friday night, almost Saturday**

**Well…I always write at night…**

**Erik/sigh/ Just get on with it.**

Darkness filled the rims of Erik's vision as he rushed to the chamber pot located in his bathing chamber. Limbs shaking violently he barely managed to take hold of the edges as he emptied the remains of his stomach into the pot. Spots clouded his vision as the rest of his limbs continued to tremble violently as he convulsed several times into the pot. Feeling that the vomiting was over Erik rolled onto his side, allowing his head to lie on the cool floor.

Morphine. His body, his very soul seemed to be crying for it. His symptoms of withdraw seemed to become worse towards the days directly before Nadir would come. Yes, Nadir would be there tomorrow with his shorter dosage. He had been at five milligrams for two weeks. One more week and he would be down to only four. Soon he would be denied it completely.

Turning over on to his back Erik tried to release his mind from his current dilemma. One just had to think of something else. Think of a memory. Before recent Erik would have thought about Christine and the time she spent in his home. However, Christine did not enter his memory, his first thought escaped to his last encounter with Mia.

"So then Monsieur Erik, are you ready for my first question?"

"Fire away."

He did his best not to show his anxiety towards her first question, but in truth the suspense was killing him. If not for his atheism, Erik was sure he would have been praying. Do not ask about my face. Do not ask about my mask. Anything else, please Erik silently begged to whom he was not sure. He was almost lost in his mental babble when the question was upon him.

"_Why do you wear a mask?"_

"What?" Erik jerked forward.

"I said." Mia repeated. "Would you like to sit down? That's not the question, question. However, I thought it would be nice to sit as we do this." Erik felt like slapping himself. Now was he hearing voices, rather then creating them? "Sure." He answered.

Mia had offered him the foot of her bed as she found a desk chair. "Ready?"

"You do not have to ask me that. Now please continue."

"_Why do you wear a mask?"_ Erik shook his head at first, sending out the voice of doubt that was his self-esteem.

"What is your favorite season?"

"Pardon?" Erik starred. In all his dread of being asked the most basic question of anyone's curiosity about him she had asked. "What is my favorite season?"

Mia laughed. "Weren't expecting that, were you? I just thought it would be a good icebreaker. So I was right that you were not expecting it."

"Indeed I wasn't." Erik admitted. "Winter." He answered. Seeing her nod and smile he realized he was at a disadvantage having her ask first. Now he felt obliged to ask her, her favorite season. He voiced his concern to her, and she merely gave him that laugh he was becoming almost accustomed to. "If you really wish to know, I shall give you a free answer. It is autumn, however Monsieur Erik do not feel obligated to ask me anything based on my questions for you."

"I appreciate that Mademoiselle, and will keep that tad in mind. Please though do not call me 'Monsieur'. Just Erik is fine enough." He requested taking a sip of the Russian tea.

"Erik." Mia tested, feeling how the naked name felt on her tough. "Then you may call me Mia. It is after all what I am called in Russia."

"I suppose so. Now for my question, how long have you been an artist?"

"I'm not sure." Mia shrugged. "I was drawing before most of my regular motor skills developed. My mother went crazy when I use to draw on the her walls."

Erik snorted briefly remembering his own mother's anguish. When she had failed to supply him with paper he drew on any surface he could find. This act included carving his design into their dinning room table with a pair of scissors. "Yes mothers do not fancy these early artistic releases, do they?" Erik mused out loud remembering the beatings he had received for that simple act.

"Not really." Mia agreed. "So, out of your numerous accomplishments, which one was the earliest you perfected?"

Hours passed, questions and both answers were exchanged. Questions of nonsense such as favorite colors were traded for more serious inquires such as past travels and religion.

"Persia, Russia, The orient. I have been almost everywhere east that is connected to Europe. Is Yiddish an actual language? I have tried to learn it, however it does not seem fully spoken."

"You first heard it in Russia, correct? There are many dialects, and words missing. Yiddish is a combination of Hebrew and Russian. However, if you were to go to Poland there Yiddish is a combination of Hebrew and Polish. I only know it how it was spoke in my house and around the town I grew up."

"Which I assume was primarily Jewish?" Erik stated.

"If you are assuming." Mia spoke. "Then yes, however if this is an attempt at a free question then I am not telling you."

"In that case." Erik challenged. "I was assuming."

"Oh, Who was it that taught you architecture?"

By their fourth cup of tea the clock read three in the morning, but neither seemed to notice. Erik had never in his life remembered feeling as commutable as he had at that moment. Had he been in his own home, and not a gentleman, he would have been reclining on the bed as he conversed with Mia. At times now he was beginning to think of her as many other things then just Mia. For the moments when questions became more challenging she was an opponent. When questions came of art or design she was an equal in the knowledge they both seemed to share on these subjects.

As time flew, and questions proceeded the opera ghost had found his cloak and hat lying on the bed by the sleeping Brian. Erik studied the feline watching as it lied on its back with his feet up in the air. "Ayesha sleeps just like this sometimes." Erik commented petting the feline's lighter belly.

"Your cat, I assume?" Mia replied watching the magician pet her darling with his non-gloved hands.

"Yes. If that last statement was just you assuming, it is your turn to ask, my dear."

"It was. What sort of cat is this Ayesha?"

"One of a kind."

"They all are." Mia sighed, as she continued to watch the two.

"She is a Siamese."

"Really? I've never seen one before." Mia admitted. "I heard though they are going to start breading them here soon."

"Even if they do." Erik breathed. "None, I guarantee you, will be like her. What time is it?"

Mia turned her stiff neck to gaze at her solitary clock. "Oi! Nearly six!"

"Well, my dear." Erik sighed standing. "I believe once the clock has nearly gone round it is time for me to take my leave."

"If you must." Mia said looking at the floor. "However, please know that it is no inconvenience at all having you stay here."

"I realize that." Erik acknowledged putting on his hat to hide the slightest smile. "I feel more welcome here then I do in my own home. I hope what I am feeling is correct and fine on your part."

"Of course it is." Mia reassured. "Will-will you come back soon?"

"I." Erik thought. True he did not have as busy a schedule as she might have come to believe, but he did have plans. Nadir was coming two days from now, with the morphine. Erik also knew his symptoms from withdraw to become more severe as the anticipation grew. He also did not want to come to Mia when he was still on his high, during that time he could not control anything he said or did. "I have some engagements to attend to. However, I shall try to be return by the end of the week."

"Alright, may I make a request?"

"As long as it isn't for me to answer more questions tonight."

"I promise it isn't." Mia smiled, the lift of her small mouth giving Erik a strange feeling in his gut. "I was merely going to request that on your next visit you might bring some of your designs. You were gracious enough to look at mine. I was wondering if I might see yours. Or any other sketches you are willing to show."

"I will bring them then, on my next visit." Erik promised, checking out the door to see if everything was clear. Bidding her a good day he began his steps. About to close the door he found his lips moving without his permission as he mumbled another sentence to her.

"Mia, I was not being gracious by looking at your works. It was my honor to share in your perfection. Good morning."

Yes. Erik thought now, as he lay in his coffin in his own home. It was true honor.

**All right! There you have it! Chapter seven! I hope you all enjoyed it and I hope you all continue to review! It really, really, really helps me! It also helps the chapters come out faster so review! Do it, and I'll let Erik give you a kiss!**

**Erik: Hey! She did not promise anything! What right do you have to do this?**

**Um…none.**

**Erik: Your pleading insanity, aren't you?**

**Like you're one to talk.**


	8. Addicted to intrigue

**Well, I just can't believe it…People are still reviewing. I'm so happy/sobs into Erik's cloak/**

**Erik: Lovely**

**Oh come on, half the reviewers gave you kisses/watches Erik attempt to remove lipstick from his mask/ Thank you all for reviewing, and I hope you continue to do so after this next chapter, Erik don't tell me…Eight!**

**Erik: Brava!**

**On with the story! Oh and Erik, do it for me, you do it so well!**

**Erik: She owns nothing, but a few Original characters! Do not steal, do not sue!**

**Isn't he great at that?**

A look of puzzlement found its way on Nadir Khan's face that night, as he stood out front of Erik's door. True around Erik things could get rather confusing, however the Persian had yet to even encounter the man in almost a week! He had knocked several times, and waited in patient intervals before raising a fist to the door again of the house on the lake.

Deciding not to wait all night, Nadir invited himself in. Taking a quick glance around the house things seemed to be in order. Items were housed in their normal place, and Ayesha eyed the darker man briefly before returning to her nap. Everything in Erik's home seemed to be there, except for Erik. Walking deeper into the drawing room the Daroga noticed the samovar was bubbling unattended. Wondering why Erik would leave the item so carelessly unsupervised, he risked a call. "Erik?" He called gently.

A few moments later Erik stumbled out of the room that led to the bath chamber. Seeing a damp rag in Erik's hand and a spare mask in the other Nadir did not have to guess what happened.

"The withdraws are still making you ill?" He asked.

"Oh, how clever you are! Even after all these years as a retired Daroga your wit continues to astound me!" Erik snapped. He was already angry with himself at the lack of control of his body. He had been wearing his full-length mask when the nausea had taken him. He made a mental note to continue wearing the one that he wore now. The one that left his mouth bare, to avoid ruining his shield because of his poor self-control when it came to vomiting.

"No need for hostility, my friend." Nadir sighed, already reaching in his coat to hand Erik his temporary relief.

"Say what you will." Erik sighed, moving to the samovar to get the tea he had left. "But, I do have my reasons for being hostile. I do not mean to be hostile at you, but do keep in mind I have few people to vent on. You are here, and dear Ayesha is asleep. I would take it out on Mia, but I do not wish to scare her just yet! Precisely the reason I avoided seeing her for the past few days!"

"Mia?"

Erik cursed, slamming his cup down. Why did the human race feel so inclined for therapist to tell their secrets? Getting off a drug addiction was the best way to confess things you did not mean to! God knows he was doing things these past few weeks he would not normally do under any influence!

"Who is she, Erik?"

"My set designer!" Erik snapped turning around to face his opponent. "Mademoiselle Sclar, Mia! It is all the same woman! Is there such need for your alarm, Daroga? I asked her to call me by my first name, and she insisted on the same. You've been to Russia; it's what they do over there! Is there so much need for your panic when I interact with someone who is not familiar to you?"

"It is when the last time something like this happened, the woman you called by her given name was Christine Daae." Nadir shot back without giving full thought. The next thing he knew glass had broken near his head. Looking down by his foot, he glanced at the broken pieces of the china cup Erik had been drinking from.

Bending down to pick up the pieces of glass, Nadir froze at the given command.

"Leave it!" Erik hissed. "Be glad my hands are shaking or I grantee you that that glass would be imbedded in those dull, brown, Persian eyes of yours!"

Nadir stared, taking in a quick breath. As sharp as the glass in his eyes would have been, Erik's tough was even sharper.

"Everywhere I go." Erik muttered, beginning to pace like a caged tiger. "Everything I do, she is still there! I try my best; do know that I try to move on! I see Mia and talk to her; I am intrigued by her mind and her genius! However, I can converse with her, and listen to her, but _she _is still there! Not a lot! Oh no, I am getting better, but a little bit. A tad, a memory can be found anywhere I do not purposely set my mind to. However, Nadir I _am_ trying! Then in my bit of success you try to, you dare to, accuse me of having the same infatuation with Mademoiselle Sclar? Christine betrayed my trust at one point, Nadir. Please do not tell me that you will do the same."

Nadir's mouth was slightly agape when the words finally sank in. Had he in his rush to protect his friend misjudged Erik completely? He was only worried that Erik would make the same mistake twice. However, he had no evidence that anything of the sorts was going on. He was once a great detective, and now he was leaping to conclusions without any evidences whatsoever.

"I am sorry, Erik. I spoke without thinking." Nadir apologized walking up the European, who had sunk to the ground in his moment of ranting. "I was merely worried that history would repeat itself."

"It can." Erik reminded. "But not always. I do try to learn from my mistakes. I admit it took me almost half a century to realize I was not met to get along with other people. Then look what happened."

"That's not true." Nadir objected sitting beside Erik. It was not very civil to sit on the floor, but now was not a moment that the two were feeling proper. "We get along. That is when you are not behaving like a lunatic." The Persian joked, motioning to the broken teacup that had been thrown.

"So what you are saying then, is that we never get along?" Erik chuckled shortly, switching moods. The misshapen lips making a small smile that Nadir had not seen in a long time. "I guess you do have reasons to be concerned though." Erik sighed, his light mood changing to a darker shade. "You have known me long enough, and are familiar with my work."

"Yes, but I was wrong to judge. Please forgive me." Nadir said. "I just-you've been though so much this past year already. I did not want to see you hurt again."

Erik was silent a moment before replying. "Well…you were wrong to judge."

Nadir smiled briefly, acknowledging Erik's strange way of forgiveness. "I was, and I admit it."

"You don't even know her." Erik mumbled standing to fix his guest tea.

"Well," Nadir considered taking the offered cup of steaming liquid with lemon. "Then tell me about her."

Erik turned to his friend. Nadir noticed that the gold held the majority of his irises, however the small specs of emerald were gradually taking over his eyes. The French man sighed as he sat back down. Taking in a good amount of air, Erik opened his mouth, and began his tale.

He spoke of Mia's brush with death, and his 'small' act of helping her. He spoke of their encounter in her room and her great hospitality. He began to tell his friend of every detail of her designs, how incredible and detailed they were. He even began to speak of his brief Yiddish lesson that he had received from her.

"Can you believe this?"

"Well, it does look like you." Nadir commented, starring at the portrait.

"Not that it looks like me!" Erik corrected. "Her detail, and perception are incredible, I admit. But, what I cannot understand even now is why she drew this!"

"Erik, from what you've told me you should know this by now. She said it was to thank you."

"So? Do people give gifts, just to say thank you?"

"Yes." Nadir answered simply. "In fact in some cultures it is terribly rude not to. However, from how you have described Mademoiselle Sclar, I do not think that was her motive. She wanted to say thank you, because she wanted to say thank you. I really think that is all."

"She treats me so differently though. Like I was a normal man, without a mask."

"It sounds to me that you might have another friend, Erik."

"Yes…perhaps." Erik mused, adding peppermint to his tea to ease the nausea. "Does it come off that way?" He inquired.

"You just speak so differently about her." Nadir stated. "When you spoke of Mademoiselle Da-her." Nadir stuttered.

"You can speak her name here Daroga. I will not throw anything at you…at least for the remainder of _this_ visit." Erik added.

"You speak differently of Mademoiselle Sclar. Do you trust her?" Nadir asked.

"I trust no one." Erik reminded feeling confused as feeling of guilt entered him. Was he feeling guilty for saying this to Nadir or because he was speaking of Mia?

"Right." Nadir sighed. "I remember, yet she has not asked one question about your mask?"

"No." Erik stated. "And she can ask a lot of questions."

"Too many?"

"No." Erik smiled. "I ask back, so we are even."

"A trade off then?" Nadir commented.

"Sort of, but I'm sure I am boring you with all this. Care to tell me of that Parisian woman in your life? Seen her recently?"

"You actually care to know?" Nadir asked shocked. "I always thought you never cared for my private life."

"I can tolerate it." Erik compromised. "Besides you confide in me, I figure the least I can do is listen. I think besides me, Darius is the only one you talk to."

"Ah, but can I continue to confide you?" The Persian inquired. "How do I know you wont say anything, now that you are conversing with Mademoiselle Sclar?" He joked.

"I do not care to tell Mia of such things." Erik answered missing Nadir's humor. "Besides I can not seem to remember if in all our inquires if I have even mentioned you."

"Does she know of anyone else you confide in?"

"Who else? Just the only other soul on this wretched earth that I talk to." Erik confessed motioning to Ayesha.

Rolling his eyes, Nadir took a sip of tea before confiding in his friend. "I was with her last week in fact." He began.

During the rest of the conversation that night Nadir did the majority of the speaking. Erik continued to listen throwing in the occasional comment, and the morphine stayed on Erik's inn-table, for that night, temporarily forgotten.

**Whew! That one really poured out of me. How did you phans like the dialogue? Let me know, okay! Once again, reviews are great, they give me inspiration to keep going, and they give me great encouragement. Also in general…they make me feel loved!**

**Erik: God is there a bigger fool on this Earth?**

**Just think of the people you've encountered after all these years, and ask that question!**

**Erik: Maybe you're third.**

**Maybe I am, but admit at times you can be first!**

**Erik: Excuse me? Are you looking for a new muse! Because you're about to be in need of one very shortly!**

**I was just kidding! Just like you were, about the bigger fool stuff.**

**Erik: I wasn't kidding…**

**Jerk.**


	9. Invitation

**Erik/Sees Neko crying a river of tears/ Dare I ask what is the matter?**

**R-r-reviews /sobs/**

**Erik: No one reviewed?**

**/Glare/ Don't underestimate me! That's just it, people keep reviewing! I'm so happy/sobs/ you love me/sob/**

**Erik: I think they 'love' the story. So hopefully they will review again. Neko owns nothing but a few original characters and this fiction based plot.**

**Erik/sniff/ what if they don't review again?**

**Erik: I'll Punjab them.**

**/hugs/ I love my muse!**

**Erik: On with chapter nine! …You _will_ let go soon…**

The Garnier opera house was usually quiet on Saturdays off. Due to recent circumstances, a new production, most cast and crewmembers would be resting up or running errands that were usually put off by work. However, today was a special day. Today was payday. Most, if not all, cast and crewmembers were lined up around the manager's office waiting to collect their individual salaries.

True, most staff were provided with dormitories, but food and personal items were not. An overly stretched, overly packed line stood its way through the main halls ending almost into the main theatre room. At the very beginning, a very stressed looking employee sat giving out envelopes to those who came by. Every employee received loose money in a single envelope after, most enthusiastically, giving his or her name.

Mia, after waiting almost twenty minutes, was almost next at the collection table. Ignoring the buzz of the people she continued to stare out into open thinking of Erik. It had been almost a week sense their last meeting. She had 'indulged' him with her sketches and they talked for hours about everything. Their conversation took them through a tour of favorite things, past memories, and even pets. Erik told her before he left that he would be returning by the end of the week, today. Mia was of course expecting him to hold his word. What Mia was not expecting was the compliment Erik had given her before leaving. It was his honor to see her work. Mia was only glad Erik had left when he did, just in time to avoid seeing her blush.

"That must be some day dream you're having, because I have been calling you for five minutes."

Mia snapped herself back to reality realizing she was being spoken to. "Theo?"

"Right, you okay? You're still new, but I haven't see you wander off like that before." The red head asked, concerned.

"Oh no. I'm quite well." Mia smiled. "Just thinking about our previous sets." She lied. "I see you already received your salary. So early?"

"You have to be quick." Theo smiled at his success. "I've been here sense six this morning! Now if you'll excuse me I have to pay a few bills."

"Bills? But you live in the dormitories. That means your bills should be included." Mia explained confused.

"I meant my bills at the casino. Good day!" Theo called dashing out of the opera.

"He'll be broke before night fall." Mia mused. Moving up in line Mia noticed it was at last her turn. Stepping forward out of the corner of her eye she spotted a dark skinned man in an astrakhan cap. Guessing him to be a tourist, Mia approached the table and gave the employee her name. Receiving more than one envelope Mia inquired why she had received extras.

"One contains your salary, the other is from the management, and the third is personal mail."

Mia raised her eyebrow at the last explanation.

Sighing the employee pointed to another door a few feet away. "That is the mail room, where you may pick up, or leave letters. That letter has been here over a month so it was sent out with your pay. We assumed you would come to pick that up."

Feeling slightly embarrassed Mia thanked the man, before leaving stepping aside for the next employee. Deciding to take a less crowded route back to her room, Mia decided to go left, and take the short cut to backstage. Once most of the crowd was out of sight, Mia stopped as soon as she heard a clear voice calling to her.

"Excuse me, might I assume that you are Mademoiselle Sclar?"

Mia turned around after hearing the heavily accented French. Her eyes widened as she realized it was the dark easterner she had seen earlier, wearing the same astrakhan cap.

"Y-yes." Mia stuttered. "May I help you?"

"I was just curious." The man replied looking slightly uncomfortable. "About what sort of person you might be."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Are you happy? With the people in your life?" The man continued, taking a gentle step forward. "I realize this may seem out of the blue. I am merely asking as a friend of _his_ if you are happy with _him. He_ is treating you well, isn't _he?_"

"He? Oh!" Mia smiled. "I understand now."

"Wonderful." The oriental smiled. "I was afraid to say anything directly. You must understand by now that _he _hears everything that goes on here."

"That he does." Mia agreed. "I'd just like for you to know, that I am happy with my relationship with him." Mia replied. "However, you and I know of him in different ways."

"I would agree so." The dark man nodded.

"But you see, I am already commented and content with my religious preference to not be able to convert to yours."

"…I-I beg your pardon?"

"I'll give you this, you Muslims are very dedicated to spreading your faith, especially all the way to France. However, I was born Jewish, I may be reformed, but I am content in my way."

"I think you've made a mistake." The easterner persuaded.

"I am sorry you feel that way, but you should really acceptt that there are other faiths out there. As for this he you mentioned. Rather he be Allah, God, or a goat I think he is all the same. Now if you will excuse me Monsieur, I have much to attend to."

"No, no. It was my fault." The dark man sighed. "I should not have come here at all, without _him _explaining me to you."

"You really are devoted." Mia mumbled. "How did you even know my name?"

"Never mind. I am sorry for bothering you." He said walking away. "Good day."

'What a yenta.' Mia thought. Ready to leave the strange encounter, Mia turned to notice a brief sparkle on the floor. Crouching down lower, Mia picked up a gold chain. On the end of the chain was an amulet of a sheep's eye. Recognizing it to be a charm of Muslim faith Mia stood up calling. "Monsieur! Monsieur!" Finding the strange man to be gone Mia tucked away the necklace. He would be back. Yentas always came back.

It was after evening when Mia first heard the knocking. She had been sketching her first designs from the new production, which she learned of from one of the envelopes. The first envelope, of course, was indeed her salary. After tucking that away in her hiding place, Mia went on to envelope two, the one from the managers. They were giving her fair warning of the next production so she would have plenty of time to begin work on the set's designs. This was fine to Mia, considering it was one of her little demands. The last letter was about to be opened when Mia realized it was from Russia, her home. Assuming the letter had been written by her mother, Mia decided to open the letter at another time.

Beginning work on the new design Mia's sketches halted as she heard three brief swift knocks. There was a pause before another series of triple knocks sounded. Mia was about to answer the door, when she realized the taps were coming from below. The pattern was repeated again; this time Mia copied the pattern with her foot. After she ceased stomping, Mia was shocked to see a square portion of her floor fold over. The wood seemed to swing back on an unnoticed hinge when out through the dark hold a white mask popped out. Once the mask rose up into the full body of Erik, Mia stepped back.

"I found a much more convenient way to continue our nightly conversations." Erik shrugged, closing the trap door with his foot.

"I can see that." Mia stared walking over to the trick to examine it. "When did you have the time to do this?"

"I assumed you would be out to get your salary today." Erik replied. "And it just so happens that one of the many passages to my home runs under your floor. So I created this."

"Ah, yes your home." Mia mumbled. She had learned that his home was somewhere below the opera house. However, like Erik's name and his presence, she was never allowed to say anything to anyone. She was even told never to attempt to find it; Erik promised her that she would die before she set foot in it uninvited. Although Erik's tone was far from joking Mia did not feel too threatened. Erik had his secrets, and Mia would try not to press on things he wished to keep to himself. She believed that one-day; he would come clean to her if he wanted to.

"It must incredible." Mia mused. "A person such as you would be expected to have a unique home."

"I do not know if I have just been complimented or insulted." Erik stated.

"Complimented!" Mia turned. "With my highest respect!" She insisted.

"You need not worry, my dear. I know now that you were being sincere." Erik smiled.

"Good." Mia sighed. "Tea?"

"Please." Erik accepted looking around her home, eyeing the sketches and letter he inquired. "Am I keeping you from anything?"

Turning to see what he was looking at, Mia answered. "No, I was just sketching a first draft for the next production. The letter is from my mother, but…"

"…You may go on, if you wish." Erik encouraged.

"Thank you, I just was feeling a little exhausted to deal with her tonight. Listen to me, Erik. All these miles apart and I can still be aggravated by something as simple as her letter. You must think terrible of me, but sometimes I feel this urge to drop something very large on her head." Mia dreamed pouring the tea.

"You think I find you terrible? I still feel a similar urge, and my mother has been dead for years." Erik turned abruptly hearing a small clattering noise. Mia had dropped a spoon, and was leaning over.

"Mia?" Erik's question for her health was answered as Mia began laughing. Such uncontrollable laughter that caught Erik completely off guard, as he stared at her like a dim-witted child. "I-I am terribly sorry!" Mia gasped. "Really I am!" She giggled. "About your mother, it's just the way you said it." She chocked, a hand flying to her mouth in poor attempt to stifle her smile.

"Your body language would suggest other wise, but-"

"No!" Mia stiffened, clearing her throat. Smoothing over her skirts she stood straight. "I really am sorry, about your mother's death." She said solemnly.

"I am not." Erik smirked. "I can understand how you feel." He stood taking the tea from her hands, as he guided her to sit with him. "My mother and I had a particularly mutual relationship. We hated each other." Erik sat down, taking a sip from his cup. "So much so we said it to each other's faces. Shortly after that I ended up leaving anyway. It was the last time I saw her alive."

"How old were you?"

"Around nine." Erik recalled.

"Nine!" Mia gasped. "That must have awful for you, you were alone?"

"Yes." Erik answered. "And though, I do have a few regrets of what happened during that time, I do not regret that it marked the beginning of my travels. It began my true learning experiences."

"I understand."

"Good, then perhaps you would answer a question for me."

"Sure." Mia replied sitting back.

"Might I ask where this lovely pendent came from?" Erik questioned swinging the sheep's eye around with his finger.

"Oh," Mia sighed. "That yenta."

"Yenta?" Erik repeated. If Mia had encountered this charm from the certain busybody he was thinking of. Well the phantom's agenda would be filling up quickly.

"This," Mia stopped to find her words. "Eastern man in a astrakhan cap just started pestering me."

"Pestering?" Erik asked the gold, in his eyes, starting to take over.

"Well," Mia considered. "You've traveled before. I met people just like him when I got off the train from Russia. Always looking to convert." Mia sighed.

"Convert?"

"His religion. He said he was wondering what sort of person I was. He was also curious of how my relationship with, 'him' was."

"Him?"

"I assume he meant Allah. I told him I was Jewish, and thanked him for his time, and he apologized and left. He dropped his charm, I went to give it back to him but he was already gone."

"I see." Erik said. "I was just wondering." Erik finished using his slight of hand to hide the necklace up his sleeve. He would return it to the…yenta Persian later, along with a piece of his mind!

"Well, did you bring them?" Mia asked interrupting his thoughts.

"What?"

"Your sketches." Mia frowned, "You said you would."

Erik sighed, giving a gesture to show he had come empty handed. "In all honesty, my dear, I did not know what to bring."

"Anything or everything." Mia answered, slightly disappointed. She had wanted to view Erik's genius. "Though I can understand, it is an inconvenience to schlep your designs back and forth."

Erik paused in his reply. It was, in logic, much easier and convenient to simply take the person, to the designs, than the designs to the person. 'No' Erik thought. He could not bring Mia to his home. If she knew the way, it would be permanent. She would forever have seen his home. She would be a permanent person in Erik's life, just as Nadir had been. Though would that be wrong? Mia, as Nadir had put it, was his friend. Was it wrong to take a friend to his home? To serve her tea, and show her the things they shared common interest in? Surely if they were friends she could keep the secret. What if she did not? What if once she learned of his location she would rat him out? No, Erik told himself. A friend would not do such a thing. She had been loyal to him so far, had she not?

"Are we friends?" Erik blurted.

"What?" Mia asked slightly shaken by his outburst.

"Do you consider me a friend?"

"Yes, of course." Mia answered, slightly shocked by such a question. "Erik, are you alright? Your face-I mean-"

"What about it?" Erik snapped.

"Disregarding the mask, the skin I can see, below your mouth…it's pale. Are you alright?"

Erik shook his head, trying to clear it. "Fine, fine. Would you like to see? My house?"

"You want me to-"

"Yes or no!"

"Yes!" Mia answered, raising her voice accidentally.

"I." Erik sighed walking to the trap door. "I want you to, but I-it's hard for me to-"

"I understand." Mia soothed. "I know it's hard for you to trust people Erik, I wont force you."

"Thank you."

"Erik." Mia spoke. "I trust you, and I hold our friendship very dearly. I-I just wanted you to know that."

"Thank you." Erik whispered, almost breathless by her statement. She trusted him. That gift he would hold dearer than his portrait. "I will come back tomorrow tonight." Erik stated. "I might show you then, I'll try. If I can't though…"

"I understand." Mia sighed. If he couldn't, Mia was wondering if he would ever come back at all.

"If I can't," Erik repeated. "I'll bring my sketches with me." With that the opera ghost lifted up the trap door, and disappeared for the night.

**Man, that turned out longer than I thought! I hope you phans enjoyed and will all continue to review! It helps me so much!**

**Erik/swings Punjab lasso around/ I'm sure they will.**

**No persuading the readers!**

**Erik: I wont. /Continues to swing Punjab lasso around/**

**Erik, that includes threatening them!**

**Erik: You don't let me have any fun!**


	10. Down once more

**Sorry! I am so sorry for not updating sooner! I planned on updating on Tuesday, but I wasn't feeling well. So, then I planned to update on Wednesday, but that was my grandfather's 80th birthday. So hopefully you will understand that, that is an event I wont be able to celebrate for much longer. So I am sorry for not updating sooner. Thank you for all the reviews! We hit 60, and even passed it! That was well past my expectations, and Erik's, right?**

**Erik: I'll say. Moving on, Neko owns nothing but her original characters, and this stories plot. /Swings Punjab lasso/ Please read and review.**

**If you do, I'll try to update by Saturday! **

**Erik: Chapter Ten.**

Stepping swiftly Erik made his way to Mia's room. Below the opera house he followed the familiar passageways that would lead him to below the set designer's domain. Erik had spent a great deal of time these past twenty-four hours deciding what his decision would be. Would he bring Mia to his home? That would mean swallowing the lump of paranoia in his throat. He would be letting an outsider in. Inviting an unknown to his world of music and beauty that could also be a world of ugliness and hell. Erik had not even known his answer until he began walking towards her quarters. After he had left Mia that night he immediately left the opera house without a second thought in his head. He needed to pay a visit to another, dear friend.

Not even bothering to take a cab Erik roamed the dark streets of Paris to the flat of Nadir Khan. After giving a quick knock, the door was opened by Darius. Not even bothering to say hello, Erik pushed past the manservant and walked into the sitting room. After seeing his friend sitting in the chair by the fire Erik gave a mocking bow.

"Hello my dear Daroga." Erik greeted. The tone of his voice reminded Nadir of a cat watching over a mouse in the distance. Erik was about to pounce, and this time his claws were not sheathed.

"Erik." Nadir greeted nodding his head. "Why don't you have a seat?" Trying to give his guest proper hospitality he requested that Darius bring them coffee.

"That wont be necessary, I do not plan to stay long." Erik commanded holding up his hand. "I have some things I need to reflect on. My own personal matters, matters that I will decide upon. You see, Daroga, these matters are of my affairs, and my affairs alone." Erik hissed.

"Erik," Nadir stood approaching his friend. "There is no need to be so hostile, my friend."

"Oh really?" Erik questioned. "Then what about the matter of your ear?"

"My ear?"

"Yes." Erik replied, reaching into the easterner's ear and pulling out his necklace. "This matter." He addressed swinging the chain on his finger. "Looking for this?"

"As a matter of fact." Nadir sighed. "I was."

"Then it is my pleasure to return it to you." Erik said placing the chain in the daroga's hand. "Now perhaps you would do me a favor and explain something to me?"

"Yes?" The Persian gulped.

"How long have you been in the missionaries? I had no idea how much you Muslims loved to spread the word of Allah. Especially to Jewish set designers, are you that desperate?" Erik yelled.

"Now Erik." Nadir reasoned taking a step back. "I apologize for approaching Mademoiselle Sclar. As soon as I spoke to her I realized I had made a mistake. She, she is not out to hurt you Erik."

"Of course she isn't!" Erik snapped. After that outburst the Persian began to notice Erik's eyes soften slightly. "Of course she isn't." Erik now whispered to himself. "She isn't out to hurt me."

"Erik?"

The soft eyes of wonder began to fill with an emotion that Nadir dared to name excitement. "Daroga, we shall continue this discussion later. I have some things I need to take care of."

"What sort of things?" Nadir inquired puzzled by the mood change.

"Private things. If I were you, the next time I'd go being a yenta, I would find a stronger chain for that eye!"

"Y-yenta?" Nadir stuttered.

"A name Mia has given you. It's Yiddish. The meaning is usually reserved for old ladies who stick their noses where they do not belong." Erik explained walking up to the door.

"Oh, you agree with her I suppose?"

"I find it rather fitting Daroga, rather fitting indeed. Good night!" Erik called closing the door behind him.

Rushing home, Erik had done his best to make his work visible and presentable. This act included putting away anything he had left out of Christine. Still taking care to put his drawings of her away, he ran into something he had not worked on in almost a month. _Don Juan Triumphant. _He had left the score in Christine's room, after he had sent her away with that boy. He had thrown it on the floor of her room and then prepared himself to die. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Erik left his masterpiece were it was in the extra room. He was moving on, he told himself. Though part of his heart still ached for the past, another part of him was continually telling him to move on. It was almost a sign that something great was waiting farther down the road. Erik just had to make the journey.

Erik knocked twice on Mia's floor waiting for her to give a reply. Hearing the pattern copied once again, Erik opened the trap door and let himself in.

Mia sat on her bed in a brown-buttoned dress, her hair pulled back into a binding French braid. "Good night." She greeted smiling.

"Good night." Erik replied.

"You-" Mia started. "Did not bring your sketches…"

"No." Erik sighed, faking memory loss. "Well…perhaps should just come see the sketches. They are in my home after all."

"Really?" Mia smiled standing up. "You don't mind?"

"No." Erik answered, eyes leaving hers. "It's rather damp below." He warned.

Mia nodded, grabbing her shawl and petting Brian goodbye.

"Before we leave." Erik paused.

"Yes." Mia smiled, now standing in front of Erik.

The magician once again forced himself to break her eye contact. Seeing her confusion, Erik explained. "I feel so horrid." He mumbled. "You have trusted me so much, but I still hesitate to open myself fully to you."

"What do you mean?"

"My dear, you must think this terrible, but may I blindfold you?"

Watching Mia's brow furrow, Erik knew that was the last thing she was expecting him to say. "If-if it makes you feel better…"Mia spoke. "Then go ahead."

Erik apologized again as he unpinned his cravat. Pulling the scarf like material off of his neck he began to use it as a makeshift blindfold. Once the blinder was placed over Mia's eyes Erik held up his hand in front of her blocked vision.

"How many fingers?"

"Three?"

"You can see." Erik accused.

"No. Everyone always holds up three, Erik I assure you, I can not see."

To be sure, Erik did something she would not expect him to do. The phantom stuck his tough out at her. Seeing no signs of mirth, or evidence that she had seen him, Erik was satisfied. Erik began walking when he realized, he would have to guide her. That would most likely involve touching her. Slowly Erik's gloved hand came to rest on the bottom of her fingertips. Guiding her along silently through the trapdoor. After gently holding her to ease her down the step, Erik released her altogether.

"Can you see?" He asked.

"No." Mia answered.

Grabbing her gently by the shoulders Erik began to spin her around in circles a few times. After stopping Mia lost her footing and fell causing Erik to reach out, to prevent her from falling. Catching her in his arms Mia gasped. "What were you doing?"

"I-if you knew what direction we were traveling…I apologize."

Mia pushed herself away, from his grip. "Erik…if your not comfortable with this…maybe we should just forget this."

Erik starred. Once again he had had her in his arms, preventing her from falling, and this time she had pushed away. He deserved it. She had given him her trust, and he had not even bothered to meet her half way. If he was ready to invite her to his home, then he should at least escort her right.

"No." Erik answered. "I wont forget this." Moving closer to her, Erik removed his cravat from her eyes. "Open your eyes Mia. I am ready for you to see." Holding out his gloved hand once more to her. "Shall we?"

"Yes." Mia smiled, taking his hand.

Noting to himself Erik realized the difference between Mia's grip and Christine's. When he led Christine to his home her grip had been weak and frail. Erik fully expected her to let go any second. Mia's grip was stronger and confident. She held on to Erik as if knowing that he would lead her to heaven. Glancing to make eye contact, Mia's gaze reflected wonder, as they continued to go down deeper. No fear seemed to come to her as they continued down the many passages that would lead them to the lake.

_Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair. _Erik thought as they approached the boat. Helping her in, he began to row them along the artificial lake. _Down we plunge to the prison of my mind._ Continuing to row over the inky depths Erik observed Mia. The silhouette of the house was just in view now. They were almost there. _Down that path into darkness deep as hell!_ Pulling the boat ashore, Erik jumped out and to help Mia up. Realizing this was the moment he had been anticipating sense yesterday Erik took her hand. Escorting her to his front door Erik paused to open it.

"My dear," He addressed letting her in. "I bring you to my domain of perfection." Erik gestured to the drawing room. "Welcome."

**Well it took ten chapters, but Mia finally made it to Erik's home. **

**Erik: In one piece you might add.**

**Once again I love your reviews! Please send more! I'll try to update on Saturday! I apologize for putting a few lyrics in there, but I really felt it was appropriate. Besides I do have _Down once more _stuck in my head. Please review, tell me what you think, and the update will be here before you know it!**

**Erik: Oh, I'm sure they'll review. /swings Punjab lasso/ **

**See you soon!**


	11. Unmasked

**I'm sorry! I know I promised to update on Saturday, but I wasn't as completely over my little bug, as I thought I was…**

**Erik: See what happens when you don't listen to me?**

**Bossy, I wasn't that sick! Just tired…still am…**

**Erik: Weren't you writing?**

**Ah, yes. Thank you for all the reviews! We hit 70! And passed it! Thank you so much! Please continue to review they keep the story going, really. Once again I own nothing but original characters, and this fiction plot. If anyone wants to sue keep in mind that I am a poor college student, and you could not get very much money from me. Maybe a few used textbooks at the most. Now on to the newest chapter, say it Erik!**

**Erik: Chapter Eleven.**

"_Mia-la! It's almost sundown, time for dinner." Despite the mother's attempt to call her daughter the child remained on the floor drawing on a small piece of paper. "What are you doing angel?" _

"_Drawing." The six year old answered._

"_Drawing what?"_

"_My house." The child smiled handing the parent the doodle._

"_Sweetie, this isn't our house. Our house isn't as big as this one, and I don't remember there being a fountain in the front yard."_

"_No!" The child pouted. "My house, I'm going to live there one day!"_

"_It looks very fancy, you would have to marry well."_

"_I wont marry!"_

"_Bite your tongue," Her mother gasped. "Don't say such things! Oi, I do not know where you get these silly dreams from."_

"_It isn't silly! I'll build my house myself if I have to! Or find an architect to build it."_

"_Monola, that will cost you some money."_

_The mother watched with surprise as the young Mia stood up and smiled. "I'll work for it then. I'll raise the money."_

"_Mia-la, come to dinner, it's almost after sunset."_

Mia was completely and utterly speechless. She could not even begin to keep track of all the emotions that ran through her. Happiness, Erik had trusted her and brought her to his home. Wonder, this was a house of perfection. Erik had built this place on his own. He had taken his dreams and housed them into something built completely from the ashes of him imagination. Envy. Yes, Mia envied Erik. In his building and genius he had done the one thing she had been working for all her life. He built, ate, worked, and dreamed in a home he had created himself. Mia could only hope the day when she would live in her own home, was not far away. She had plans to build her own house, and nothing could change them.

"My dear, are you that overcome by my home?" Suddenly she remembered that this genius was Erik's home, and he was standing by her. She watched him move ahead of her to a samovar.

"Perhaps tea would restore your voice?"

"Y-yes." Mia flushed clearing her throat. Her voice had come out as a tiny squeak, she suddenly felt as though she was a flea. A tiny creature in a big strange world, a world of genius and perfection a house- "It's more like a temple really." She mumbled out loud.

"A temple?" Erik repeated turning around with two cups of tea.

"Yes." Mia nodded. "A shrine, a museum. Someplace that houses things that should be praised. However, it all seems to unreal, to immortal to be man made."

"Well, in that case I do not consider myself one of the human race." Erik replied casually handing his guest tea, while taking a sip from his own cup.

Mia took a sip as well, eyes never resting to gaze upon the 'temple'. Her mind was already buzzing with questions. Some of these things Mia had never seen in her life. She had a feeling the no one had ever seen of these creations. "Experiments?" She asked, briefly standing by a table that housed coil and metal contraptions.

"Ideas and failures."

"All ideas…few failures?"

"For the most part." Erik shrugged. "I have to admit, though it is hard for me to accept failure. So things that fall under that particular category are merely ideas in the making."

"Of course." Mia smiled wondering over to a new area. Erik watched her eye and examine every detail she could find. Curiosity obviously coursing through her, with multiplied interest. However, she was always respectful never touching anything without permission. Which, Erik found, she did not ask for to frequently. He was beginning to understand her small signals. She was not her to pry or discuss things that could make his space feel violated or at the least uncomfortable. _Maybe if part of you had been listening to her, you would have figured that out long before you blindfolded her. _That tiny voice, that Erik was starting to name his late guilt, was beginning to annoy him.

"Erik?"

"Yes?" Coming back to his current situation, Erik noted Mia had moved to beside his worktable.

"Someone is playing with my foot."

"What?" The first thing Erik did, was note the space between them. He was at least ten feet away, so it was not him. Confusion dawning on him, the magician watched the artist give a short laugh. Kneeling down to the floor, the woman looked under the table.

"Hello there. You must be Ayesha, I've heard a lot about you." Smiling the artist extended her hand curling her fingers under her palm.

"A brief warning, I did not mention." Erik cut in. "Ayesha, doesn't always take well to strangers." He spoke, remembering the aggression and jealousy she had shown over Christine. Not to mention the shredding she first gave Nadir. Come to think of it though, no cat seemed to get along very well with Nadir. Erik was about to voice another warning about Ayesha's temper, but he felt his voice would not carry. Ayesha was slowly coming closer to Mia. True she was crouched low, a feline sign of uneasiness, but she was coming closer to smell Mia's hand. The feline continued to examine giving brief sniffs around Mia's knuckles and wrist.

"She probably smells Brian on me." Mia stated.

"That could be it." Erik wondered. Or could it be she actually fancies you. Watching the cat give a brief hiss and jump onto a bookcase, Erik realized he might have spoken to soon.

"Isn't she a coy little thing?" Mia laughed.

"You have no idea."

A few hours, and cups of tea later found the two seated at Erik's table flipping through the tarot cards. "It's called a phrenology bust." The architect explained gesturing to the object that was kept near his herbs. "I can not tell you if I found it in England or in India, it was so long ago."

"Are doctors really relying on them to be true?" Mia asked.

"Not yet. It's still a theory. I'm sure some people practicing medicine might keep it in mind. However, it has yet to be tested as anything true."

"Do you consider it true? That the shape of one's head could tell a person about one's mind?"

"Yes." Erik answered without a second thought. "I've seen a lot of things. I long ago accepted that almost anything is possible." Erik explained. "Now, I want you to pick a card from the tarot deck. Close your eyes and select the card you feel the most drawn to."

Mia obeyed and did as she was instructed. Drawing a card from the picture deck she handed it to Erik. The magician laid the card face up on the table. The Queen of wands. "So, what does that say?" Mia asked tilting her head and studying the card.

"The card you have chosen first, is supposed to represent you. This card is more a reflection of your strongest qualities. The Queen of wands is a woman out to create. You are out to make a career, or perhaps reach a goal. And if anyone dares to cross your path to stand in your way, it will be extremely hard for them to stop you."

"What about you?" Mia inquired. "What card represents you?"

"Lets see." Erik sighed, laying all cards face down on the table. Closing his eyes Erik slowly moved his hand to almost the end of the deck. Feeling a call from a blind card, his middle bony finger dragged the card from the pile. Opening his eyes and flipping the card Erik viewed his designated tarot symbol. "The hanged man." Erik stared.

"The hanged man?"

"Once a fool, the hanged man. Now he waits. His path like the hermit remains mysterious and reclusive. But now he hangs waiting for clarity, waiting for any sort of sign. Something can happen to him, he just needs to meditate on his past and present and then wait for it."

Mia smiled. "It sounds like something good is waiting for you."

"Yes." Erik reflected. "If I choose to let it. Like I said, he is a fool of mystery. Who is to say? He may prefer his old life? He might like it to remain that way."

"You-don't have to…" Mia whispered.

"What?"

"You don't have to hide from everyone."

"Are you mad?" Erik inquired standing up from the table. "I chose to hide! I spent many years in public, but it did not suit me. I learned my lesson. I am better off as a permanent recluse. I should have drawn the hermit."

"Maybe not." Mia argued standing as well. "You have so many gifts Erik. Why do you hide when you could give so much to the world?"

"I did give!" He hissed. "I gave and gave! But this world is selfish! They want my gifts, they took my gifts, but because I am not like them, they did not want me in their precious perfect world!" Erik's voice continued to rise as he began pacing. "I did them a favor by living here. I am perfectly content! I have my music, my home, my art, and my science! I am fine living without the world!"

"People are stupid!" Mia shouted. "The world is full of fools, Erik. You must know that! For hundreds of years, mankind as ignored the fools, why can't you? Do not listen to people! Ignore what they say, you are a genius! To Hell with them and their small minds that can not understand that!"

"They understand that Mia!" Erik shouted whipping around to her. "Were you not listening? The fools out there know my genius. They have many of times accepted and praised it! That is not why I hide."

"Then why do you?"

"To what ever force or god there may be, are you an idiot? I do not want to believe it! You seem very bright to me! Perhaps quite above average! Do you not see my mask? Even as I am talking you can see my misshapen lips! Have you even dared to imagine what is behind this white shield? Would you sketch my portrait if you knew what lies beneath?"

"Small things such as physical beauty should not make a difference of how someone is judged in this world!"

"No it shouldn't! But it does!" Erik shot. "Everyone judges everybody by the nose on a face! The color of an eye! Men by their height and weight, and woman by breast size and the shape of their derriere!"

"Not everyone, Erik!" Mia heatedly protested. "I would never judge a person by their appearance! I know this because I believe a person's physical beauty is not a mirror image of their soul. That is what I believe for everyone, and you Erik. What ever sort of deformity lies beneath your mask, is probably the most farthest contrast from who you are inside!"

"You believe that?" Erik gasped. It was getting harder to breath, if he went on another attack might come. Another attack as it had when Christine had first come, but Erik could not stop now. He was too angry. She dared to understand him. She really believed in not judging someone by his or her looks? Obviously she had not seen him! His face was a mirror image to his soul distorted, ugly, and wicked. "You truly believe that? That you would not judge me, based on this horrid face!" Erik challenged. "Well then have a look!" He dared hastily clawing at the mask and ripping it from his once covered face. "Gaze upon Erik and his hideous soul!" Watching the brown orbs widen Erik closed his sunken eyes. The sound of Mia's gasp rang in his ears as he waited for her scream to come.

**Yes, I think I'll stop I there. Someone once told me I could be evil and write cliffhangers, what do you think? I hope you all enjoyed that chapter, and continue to review! Maybe we could hit 80, but I don't want to set my hopes too high. So do what you can.**

**Erik: And here I thought you self esteem was improving…**

**Shut up. Next update…/thinks/ Well lets just see how many reviews I get. However, I'm feeling a little fatigued so I'm going to bed. Night everybody, and please review!**

**Erik: You promised me ice cream before you went to bed.**

…**Oops**


	12. Acceptance

**We hit 80! I'm so happy! I am also sorry for the wait. I am also going to apologize in advance. I just registered for classes, so school is coming up. I will continue to write, but updates will be cut down. I will try to get at the very least one chapter up a week. Please keep in mind these are college classes, and I have to work to…eat. Erik has to eat too!**

**Erik/eats his ice cream/ Neko owns nothing but original characters and this story plot. If you feel the effort to sue this college student you are only going to get used textbooks…and my ice cream money. /Swings Punjab lasso/**

**Erik! Be nice. Thank you for all the reviews! Keep them coming, please! As for this chapter I have no idea what is going to happen. I'll just see what I come up with at the end, so see you at the bottom of the page.**

**Erik: That is so reassuring that you know nothing about my future…**

**Now you know how a minimum wage college student feels…**

**Erik/sighs/ Chapter twelve.**

"_Erik! Go back to your room and put on the mask!"_

"_Behold, the living corpse!"_

"_Erik! I want you to take off the mask," "Please take off the mask."_

"_I think it would be best if you simply did as my daughter has asked."_

"_If an order is what it takes, then I am ordering you. God almighty, boy, you must see this can't go on any longer."_

"_-The mask is likewise a device to frighten infants. Remove it!"_

"_Then perhaps I should remind you that only ladies hide their faces in this country. Remove the mask, or the children will be instructed to perform that service for you-and also to take the precaution of removing your head with it!"_

For years he had hidden his face, and for years fools had been both afraid and curious to pry. A mask had been with him for as long as he could remember, his first piece of clothing. Sense his birth Erik had always been curious as to why he had to wear a mask when no one else did. When he first laid his eyes on his own hideous reflection his childish innocence had only protected him for a little less than a year. He believed all mirrors were evil. That they all would house that monstrous image, this led to his fascination with them. Erik wanted to make mirrors beautiful, so he could look and see his real reflection. His true reflection. No matter how much he tried he kept seeing monsters. Then his innocence shattered. Erik realized that monster in the mirror was his true reflection.

After that Erik had spent the rest of his existence trying to keep his mask on. He wanted to go about his life without anyone noticing him, but people did. They wanted to see the living corpse; they wanted to see behind the mask. He had spent his youth as the world's greatest magician. He controlled elements, and questioned physical laws. No matter how indulged his audience was, they always wanted more. They always wanted to see more. He would lose his temper and pull of his mask; he would exhibit himself like a freakish animal. Then Erik grew tired of being an exhibit. He closed himself off from the world, and wanted to hide forever. Now, in perhaps the greatest trust he had developed with another human being in over twenty years, he had failed.

Erik had lost his temper with Mia. She had shown him kindness and trust. Two things that Erik did not encounter every day, and in this trust he had betrayed her. Erik had done the one thing he wanted never to do to any woman. He had frightened her. Hearing Mia gasp, Erik immediately closed his sunken eyes. Her scream was coming, the scream that would change what they had accomplished forever. She would hate him, call him a monster, and never want to see him again. Erik waited, but the scream never came.

Slowly Erik opened his yellow eyes. Mia was staring not at him, but through him it seemed. Erik noticed the slight loss of color in her cheeks, and her partially agape mouth. Mia's hands now rested behind her back, lightly gripping the table for support. Erik's heart sank, worse than he had imagined. He had put her in shock.

"…Erik…" Or so he had thought.

Making eye contact, he brought himself to stand completely erect. He wanted to feel strong in his own home for whatever she was about to say. Whatever goodbye she might think of.

"This is what you have been hiding." It was not a question; she was stating this to herself. Pushing herself from the table, Mia stood. Taking small timid steps she met Erik half way. Lifting her hand slightly up, Erik was confused by the gesture. Mia began to stretch her arm out further when Erik understood; she wanted to touch his face.

"M-may I?"

Not sure of anything Erik began to stare at his carpet. Another human wanted to touch him? Erik was thinking of all the ways to reject, when Mia continued to come closer. Walking right up to Erik, her small bare hands hesitantly reached up to Erik's face. The smooth fingertips lightly touching the abnormal skin on Erik's cheek. Slowly the fingers curled under the palm and began to explore the area between his lips hair. The other hand exploring the edges of his left sunken eye, as the thumb explored the nose that only half grew.

Erik overwhelmed with unnamable feelings closed his eyes. He couldn't feel any part of his body. His legs and arms were numb. All he could feel was the soft, silk like digits that touched and explored his face. Then Erik felt it, a feeling that seemed to explode in his heart. This feeling was nothing like his attacks, it was warm. Erik could feel the blood pumping from his heart and through out his body. The red life liquid was warm and flowing everywhere inside him, from his heart to his brain, arms, and legs. Erik felt warm and alive and for the first time not cold and dead. His heart was alive, and for the first time in ages Erik realized he had one. The blood that flowed in his face was salty and dripped tears from his eyes. The heart that was seconds ago light was now heavy, and Erik's breathing was getting heavier.

"Shhh."

Realizing he was being soothed, he opened his teary eyes to see Mia crying herself. Her tears, not as heavy as Erik's, fell in two small rivers down her face straight from her eyes.

"Erik, why are you crying?" She whispered.

Swallowing the lump in his throat Erik answered, but the lump remained. "You have seen me."

"I see you Erik." Mia smiled. "But I am still looking for it."

"For what?"

"That hideous soul that you claimed to have. I cannot see it. I still continue to see you as I always have, inside."

Erik chocked. "But you see the outside. It is as hideous as my black soul."

"The only thing hideous," Mia whispered. "Is the way you hide yourself and your fears."

Smiling, Mia removed her hands slowly from Erik's face to his neck. Without any hesitation or warning she wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him. Feeling the weight on his heart increase Erik's head fell to Mia's shoulder as he sobbed.

Breathing in time with him, Mia's lips moved against Erik's shoulder. "…Erik…please say something."

"…I don't deserve this." He wept. "…I do not deserve to be touched…all my life no one has…they haven't…and I don't deserve…not this…"

"Erik."

"You have…why," He sobbed. "…I have hurt others…I have killed…I don't deserve this…I feel this…I feel warm…I never want this feeling to go away…but…but I don't deserve it."

Mia's once small rivers were now flowing down her face. "Erik," She wept. "Everyone deserves to be touched. That is our right as living beings with souls…we all deserve to be touched…we all deserve to be warm. Nothing can change that…nothing." She whispered squeezing his shoulders.

The two went on embracing and crying. This pattern continued along with mumbled confessions, and gentle soothing. On the book shelf Ayesha watched her master and this new woman. The sobbing of their rocking bodies casting shadows on the wall. The shadows continued to sway, looking at first glance like a gentle dance. The dance continued swaying in time with the flickering candles on the house by the lake.

Morning found the two in Mia's room. After escorting her back to the surface, as Erik thought of it, the two faced each other silence being their goodbye.

"…I will see you here tomorrow?" Erik's lips moved under the replaced mask.

"Yes." Mia smiled. "You will."

"Mia…thank you." Erik was cut short as Mia raised her hand in front of his face.

"No Erik. Thank you."

Erik put his head down giving his signal of goodbye. His foot was ready for its pivot when he paused. Slowly his gloved hand glided gently past Mia's cheek. Closing her eyes to feel the touch Mia leaned into the gentle caress. Feeling her chin being tilted, Mia felt Erik's warm lips brush gently against hers before breaking away. Mia opened her eyes to question him only to see Erik was gone.

**/Yawn/ Sorry if it's a little short, but I'm a tired little kitty. That and I honestly feel that was a good place to end that chapter. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the reviews! They help, inspire, and encourage me to continue! Maybe this time we could pass 90! Sometimes I wonder how far away Erik and I are from 100! But then I'm getting ahead of myself…**

**Erik: Don't be so hard on yourself; we'll get there eventually**

**Really?**

**Erik: I'm sure /Swing Punjab lasso/**

**Sigh, my muse is controlling my reviewers influence…is this good or bad? Well I'll figure that out later…I'll try to update later this week, if you're all good little reviewers! Erik, up for ice cream?**

**Erik: What flavor?**


	13. Reflection

**I'm sorry! Sorry it took so long. First I had to move, then school started, then work screwed me over with my hours…but here I am. Most of all, though I hate to admit it, I had a bit of writer's block. Not a real block, however I had a hard time getting back into the story. I didn't want to jump back into the story not 100 dedicated. So in a spark of enthusiasm I hopped over to the computer, and here I am. Just to let you know I will need some real feedback on this one guys. Let me know if I changed character in the story from the separation, or if you guys can fall back into the plot like I am. Well here we go, Erik?**

**Erik: She owns nothing but her original characters. All flamers will be punjabed. On with chapter thirteen.**

Mia's fingers continued to trace her pink lips over and over. Erik had kissed her, or at least she thought he had. The action was so brief, so gentle. At first Mia had thought it was a gentle warm breeze across her lips. He was warm. This man who had described himself as corpse like possessed so much warmness. Mia had begun to wonder how the very idea he could be cold existed in his mind. This warm man, both body and soul, had kissed Mia. Then when the Russian woman opened her eyes he was gone.

His actions at the same time seemed to both confuse Mia and intrigue her. Why had he pulled away? Did he regret his action? Or was Mia just a bad kisser, he certainly did not give her any warning. Mia threw that idea away; the kiss wasn't long enough for that. Maybe after all the emotion and secrets that were reveled that night Erik was still too afraid to show affection to her. Why though, they were just friends.

'Friends.' Mia thought. Were they just friends? Friends accepted each other like they had. Friends conversed, shared ideas and stories, ripped off their mask in front of your eyes insisting that you will hate and fear them. Yes, that's what friend's did.

'But are we just friends…' Mia wondered continuing to run her fingers lightly over her lips. Shaking her head slightly she focused on the task at hand. Erik had departed over three hours ago, and Mia had now finished the designs for the new production. Now the stage designer sat on the edge of her bed reading the letter that she had nearly forgotten about.

_Monola,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and safe. You have barely written us since your move to France. How are you, and your mashugina cat? Sometimes I envy you for your decision to live life and pursue your dream. However, my darling daughter, you could have done so just as easily here in Russia, with a husband. Maybe I have pushed you in the past to live the life a good woman like you is supposed to live. I just hope I was not your reason for putting so many miles between us. Mia, you can always come home. We are family, and we will not judge you. Please remember that. Things are fine here at home, God may they continue. Your father works himself so hard all day as a butcher. Hopefully, he will last along with your grandmother who gets older every day. I hope you can at least visit a few times; maybe Baba will make it another winter. In more good news you are going to be an aunt again. Don't worry it's Lena who is having the baby. If you start now Mia you should be able to get married before your younger sister. That is after all how it is suppose to go. Hope you are doing well, please write back while I am still young enough to read your letters._

_All my love, my darling,_

_Your mother_

Growling in her throat Mia stood up and threw the letter on the bed. "The nerve of that woman!" She huffed. "Even now at my age she still results to using guilt?" Saying that her grandmother would maybe live another winter, or her father worked himself to death. Baba was as healthy as a horse, and her father had always worked hard. That was what made him strong. Her father's dedication to never leaving something unfinished or poorly done was a trait that Mia had inherited.

"_Father? Can we go home, it's getting late."_

"_Just a few more minutes Mia. What is wrong with wanting perfection?"_

"Saying I could come back, that I would be just fine staying in Russia and getting married? That it's my womanly obligation to have a child after Lena and before Niddy? Who made these laws? Did anyone in that house listen to one word of my dreams or goals?" Turning to look at Brian for an answer, all Mia received was a 'meow' from the orange tabby lying on its back.

Rolling over onto her feet, Ayesha jumped off the bookshelf and walked over to her master. He seemed to be acting very strange recently. When she saw the intruder in her home, the feline feared it would be the same with the other woman. Her master would have two girls and his heart, one that would only hurt him and make him sad again. That is why the cat tried to attack the new woman. She had waited under the table ready to pounce on the intruder. However, her master seemed to act different around her. His actions and posture were lighter when around her. This woman seemed to have a different meaning to him. So being the gracious host, she sniffed the new woman briefly then hissed just for a warning.

Now Ayesha was circling her master's legs. He had dedicated his attention to another woman, now it was time for her to be noticed too. She was given into; when one of Erik's arms swooped down to pick her up. Cradling the cat in his arms, Erik scratched delicately under the feline's chin. "Now, now my jealous little lady. I could never forget about you." Receiving the coy look from the feline the masked man chuckled. "Playing innocent are we?" The feline seemed to smile, as it turned in Erik's embrace, trying to arch itself.

Erik sat both of them down onto the red velvet cushions of the sofa. Spreading his arms the Siamese rolled over, silently demanding that her furry belly be rubbed. Giving in to his little lady's plea, Erik continued to pet. All her received for a thank you was the echoing vibration of Ayesha's purr.

"She did surprise us though. Didn't she?" Erik sighed reclining his head to meet the back of the seat. Mia, who was before haunting his thoughts, had now seemed to take up permanent residency in his mind. Every time the two interacted he seemed more drawn to her. Then earlier that evening, without even intending to, he had thrown himself vulnerably into her judgment. Unbelievably, still to Erik, she had accepted him. No, accepting was not the word. She equalized him. Acceptance was a word for someone different being treated equally. Mia had treated Erik as though he was normal, as though nothing was wrong with him. Sometimes Erik began to wonder just, which of them was madder?

"Who is it? The one who is mad, or the one who thinks the mad person is sane?" Erik asked the feline. "I think though, my dear, we shall be seeing a lot more of Mia soon. Now, though, we shall retire. An even older friend shall visit tomorrow. We must be well rested for Nadir's arrival." With that said Erik rose to his bedroom, not at all expecting to partake in the most restful sleep he had ever endured in his coffin, or his life.

**Yea! Sorry it's short. Like I said earlier, I'm not sure how my 'first chapter back' was going to be. Definitely going to need some feedback if I want to get comfortably back into the story. So…a longer chapter by Friday or Saturday if we hit maybe 110-111 reviews? Sorry for the wait, and I hope everyone enjoyed the update. I really don't have much to say except I have school first thing in the morning…Erik?**

**Erik: She owns nothing. Please review. No flames. (Swings Punjab lasso) You however, my dear authoress, are long over due for giving me ice cream.**

**Well my roommates are having a party. Let us see if they saved us any?**

**Erik: After you.**

**See you soon!**


	14. Meeting the yenta

**Yea! We got so many reviews from that last chapter. Sorry that took so long, but from what most of you were saying…you didn't think the wait affected the story. So without further delay, I give you another chapter.**

**Erik: Chapter Fourteen?**

**Yes, I think we might even try to post another one tonight as well.**

**Erik: This is how you spend you Saturday nights?**

…**Look who's talking, you're right here with me.**

**Erik: But not of my own free will…She owns nothing on with the story**

**Yea!**

Today would have been a good day to stay in bed. After a long day of work Mia slowly entered her room. She had been up late choosing the perfect colors for the sets, only to have the biggest clash with the head seamstress.

"Are you mad?" Mia had lost her temper. "A night scene, with the moon and stars, and our Prima Donna is wearing orange!" After a few mumbled words in Russian, Mia had decided to let the seamstress do her job. If the cast clashed with the sets it wasn't her head on the chopping block. Though the guilt of poor perfection was enough to make her sick.

Sighing Mia reached for the ribbon to un-due her braid. The dark chestnut locks cascading down her back. Leaving the pins in her hair, the flowing locks were still pulled up leaving the soft tresses to flow wildly around her shoulders and back. Pouring some cold water from the pitcher into the washbowl Mia gently began to wash her face.

Feeling the cool liquid on her face made her feel she was in heaven. Her mind was almost elsewhere when three familiar knocks interrupted her cleansing. Without even a second thought Mia repeated the pattern with her foot against the floor. It was not common for Erik to visit this early in the evening; he usually never came to see her until dark.

Hearing the almost silent trap door open, Mia felt her heart skip a beat. She had not seen Erik sense last night when he had kissed her, and now he was waiting for her. "I'll be right there in a minute, Erik." Mia said, trying to sound as though she wasn't anxious. Feeling herself blush Mia splashed her face once more. Groping for a towel the artist dried off and went to greet the masked man.

"Sorry about that, I was washing my face-" Mia walked past the changing screen only to find Erik standing in the middle of her room, holding out her shawl.

"Perfectly fine my dear. Shall we?" Erik assured, putting the shawl around her shoulders.

"Where are we going?" Mia asked noticing that Erik had left the trap door open.

"I figured that would be obvious my dear. I have plans for us back at my home. Come along." Erik answered holding out his hand for hers.

"Just a minute! Let me get ready!" Mia demanded, hands going to re-braid her hair. Her fingers stopped as she felt Erik's hand on her wrist.

"Leave your hair down. You should were it that way more often. It compliments you well. Now let us be off, Mia." Feeling very much like wet clay in his hands, Mia did not hesitate to let Erik mold her. Allowing herself to be led down the trap door, Mia was thankful it was dark down there. Even though Erik had complimented her on her work and intelligence, this was the first time he had said anything about her physical appearance.

Although Mia was a very attractive woman, she failed to realize this. Being a Jewish woman from Russia did mean certain traits. She was definitely darker than the blonde woman of France. Also her curves tended to be more voluptuous than other woman. These had always reminded her that Jewish woman did have a tendency to have childbearing hips. Shaking her head she continued to walk with Erik, conversing a long the way about how the newest production was coming along.

"Orange!" Erik cursed, once he and Mia were in his home. "In the second act? The Midnight garden scene?"

"That was my reaction." Mia sighed taking a sip of the tea she had been offered.

"I'll take care of it." Erik sighed, jotting down something on a pad of parchment on his desk.

"Erik! You don't have to."

"You have your obligations to the theater. I have mine, even if it means I have to buy that blind seamstress a pair of spectacles." Erik couldn't help but let a small smile find his lips as Mia began to laugh.

"I suppose a woman of her age is long over due for a good pair."

Erik watched her eyes light up when she smiled. True the seamstress looked like she should have been on her deathbed years ago, but she was still only a few decades older than Erik. Mia appeared to look as though she was in her late twenties, but Erik had the feeling that she was aging gracefully. She appeared to have so much experience and wisdom she had to be at the very least in her thirties. Unfortunately for Erik he knew it was not any man's place to ask a woman her age. Even with Christine Erik knew she was much younger than him, but had not even bothered to ask.

"Erik?" You always manage to place me deep in thought. "Yes?"

"Does your home have three bedrooms?" Mia asked looking to a closed door she had failed to notice yesterday. There had been…distractions.

"No. Just two. That door goes to a replica of something I built in Persia…It's called the torture chamber."

Mia looked at him for a second. Erik had spoken briefly about his time in Persia. All Mia understood was that for a time his word was law. She also knew Erik had been forced to do many things there he was not proud of. Mia knew Erik had killed before, but had brushed the thought aside. The world was not kind to anyone who appeared different. If killing was what Erik had to do to stay alive, Mia would not hold that against him. She knew something had happened in Persia that had hurt him greatly, so she would not pry. When or if Erik was ready, Mia knew he would share with her.

"Would you like to see? It may be a death trap, but it may very well appeal to your artist eyes." Erik offered.

Mia nodded, following him to the room. Opening the door, Erik allowed her to enter, not turning on the lamps. In the darkness Mia began to examine the hexagonal mirrored room. Hearing the faint ring of a buzzard Erik excused himself. "My dear, I must attend to something, please continue to look around. However, for you own safety please keep this main door open."

"Of course." Mia smiled continuing to look at her multiplied reflection.

Making sure the door would stay open; Erik made his way to the front door. Opening the said barrier he was greeted with the sight of Nadir stepping out of the rowboat. "Hello old friend." The Persian greeted.

"Good evening." Erik nodded. "I need a favor, keep the morphine with you, do not take it out until I ask you."

"Why?" Nadir asked, slightly happy that Erik was not demanding it now.

"Because I asked you too." Erik replied, escorting Nadir into his home. The Persian stopped to take in the familiar surroundings. The samovar was boiling quietly, Ayesha was asleep on Erik's desk chair, and next to Erik's cloak was shawl.

"Mademoiselle Sclar is here, isn't she?" Nadir asked slightly panicked. "Where is she?"

"In the torture chamber." Erik replied casually, making his way to the said room.

"What?"

"Relax you old Persian dolt. She is merely having a look from her artistic perspective. Mia?" Erik called, "May I steal your attention for a second?"

Coming out of the mirrored trap, the artist paused slightly noticing the new company.

"Mia? This is an old friend of mine, Nadir Khan. Nadir? May I introduce to you properly to Mademoiselle Mia Sclar."

Giving a bow with his head, the Persian greeted Mia in his best French. "Enchanté(e) de faire votre connaissance, Mademoiselle Sclar."

Mia who would usually greet back could only manage to stare. "…You're the yenta."

**LOL. For those of you who are wondering a yenta is an old Yiddish word that means nosey, or busybody. For those of you who have any questions about the Yiddish in my story, please just ask in a review, and I'll try to answer in my author notes. So did you like, love, hate? Let me know in a review. Now just because I am about to write another chapter ASAP, doesn't mean you shouldn't review this one too…I like feed back for each chapter, to see if I'm writing it well. I like knowing which chapter you were referring to if you liked or hated something…but please no flames.**

**Erik: They will only be used to light the lamps of my torture chamber. /Swings Punjab lasso/ Please review.**


	15. Kiss of a French man

**We're back! Happy to see us twice in the same night?**

**Erik: You worked an eight hour shift this morning starting at six a.m. And you only got four hours sleep. Why the hell are you so damn happy?**

**I truly feel that someone has lit a fire under my creative spirit. This story feels so alive in me right now. I cannot even begin to express how happy I am to be writing it again. I only hope the readers are enjoying it at least half as much as I am. **

**Erik: I'm…sure…She owns nothing but this fiction based plot and the original characters. Please review, no flames. On with chapter fifteen…**

"…You're the yenta."

Nadir was about to open his mouth to explain when a rare sound filled his ears. Erik was laughing. Not his normal, composed, morbid sounding chuckle. This was a full-hearted laugh that was not common in the Persian's company or anyone's.

"My dear, you truly have a gift for saying the right thing at the most unexpected time." Erik breathed.

"Mademoiselle Sclar. When I first approached you, I was acting only to see what sort of person you were. I'm afraid it is my nature to be slightly overprotective of my good friend. I was merely looking out for Erik's well being. I apologize." Nadir bowed.

"There is no need for that!" Mia stuttered, raising up her hands in front of her. "I apologize for making such an unheard of assumption. I completely understand now. Erik is indeed a person I would want to protect as well. I cannot be angry with you for that reason. It only proves how good of friends the two of you must be." The brunette smiled.

"…If you two are done referring to me as though I were not here…" Erik trailed off.

"Sorry." The two seemed to reply simultaneously.

"What am I some child that needs to be looked after?" Erik asked.

"Well…" Mia grinned. "When you're around art and music, you do tend to resemble my younger brother in a sweet shop."

"Are you quite done Mademoiselle?" The phantom asked.

"Quite." Mia smiled. "But you do know I was teasing you."

"Of course…just as I was." Erik replied in a lighter tone.

Nadir simply watched the two artists exchange. 'Interesting' was all he could think of. 'Very interesting.'

The evening consisted of the three acquaintances sitting around Erik's drawing room. They all partook in some bread and cheese, with a bottle of Erik's valued French Wine. Although most would think an evening in the home of the Opera Ghost, would be very dreary, the three seemed be in gay spirits.

Erik spoke briefly about his and Nadir's meetings, and a few tales of Persia. Although Nadir at anytime could have mentioned the gored details of some events he left Erik to tell a shorter version. The two artists always seemed to be engrossed in conversation that Nadir was not to familiar in. Although the Persian respected architecture and artistry very much it was not a field he was too familiar with.

The two frequently apologized for leaving him out of the loop, but he just brushed it off. The easterner was perfectly content watching the two conversing as though they had known each other for years. Mia had a way with Erik; she could play his games and at the same time bring out his strange sense of humor.

Mock arguments seemed to be the two's favorite. The duo was now having a 'heated' debate about music and visual art.

"I still believe that it is the visual artist; the ballet, and set designs. That brings the music to life. We're living in an era, were people want to see and hear. I'm sad to say this Erik, but very few people go just to hear an orchestra play."

"I'm not denying that this era has no imagination. I am simply saying that music can be played a right way and a wrong way, Mia. It is the wrong way that causes people to dislike orchestras." Erik debated.

"True, but I'm not saying I dislike the orchestra Erik. I'm just saying there are not a lot of composers or musicians out there that could bring a crowd to simply listen to an orchestra and simply use their imagination with no visual affects. It's very hard for some people to be entertained."

"Yes, but one of those musicians can make up for the others." Erik sighed.

Then Mia said two words that would change the night's gentle atmosphere. "Prove it."

Erik's head looked up from his glass to meet Mia's eyes. Setting down the object, he grabbed Mia by the hand and dragged her into his bedroom. Giving a gesture with his free hand Nadir followed the mastermind, already knowing what he had planned.

Leading Mia to sit in a chair Erik walked past his guest and sat abruptly at the grand pipe organ that lined the entire wall. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly Erik let his finger's take over the instrument. Letting his mind slip the room soon echoed with the music of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor.

Nadir felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. True he had heard Erik play many times before. However, each time made the Persian forget just how overpowering he could play. Looking over at Mia he could tell just by seeing her that this was the first time she had ever heard Erik play. Her eyes appeared to have an almost glazed over look. Her mind and senses had departed the second Erik played the first note. She was completely spell bound; all she could manage to do now was listen.

Mia's eyes continued to watch Erik play the beginning of the piece with authority, she had only witnessed a few times. The first notes of the repeated pattern played light then darker. Erik's eyes were closed as he played. He had long ago memorized this piece, and did not need silly assistance such as open eyes or sheet music. He was the music. Mia continued to watch as his body moved with the sound. His simple movements seemed to tell a story.

Allowing her eyes to close Mia envisioned pictures, patterns, and colors in her mind. The music's dark beginning leading down a steady beat of frantic, to soft, light, to an amazing end prologue. Mia had heard this piece in Russia. It sounded amazing when played by a full orchestra, however Erik's solo playing on the pipe organ gave the piece an unidentified justice. It was the missing version to the piece that no one knew was missing. Mia's heart skipped in her breast once more. She was completely amazed.

Letting the final note die out, Erik slowly turned to his small audience. "Well Mia, do you still believe that one musician can not make up for others?"

All Erik heard was a soft whisper of, "No."

The next hour remained quieter than ones before it. Eventually Mia reminded Erik that she did have work to attend to early the next day. Understanding, Erik asked Nadir to wait for him in his home, while he escorted Mia back.

Once back in Mia's dorm the two artists continued to hold quiet eye contact. The trip back to Mia's quarters had been disturbingly quiet.

"Have I done anything, to offend you?" Erik asked.

"No!" Mia gasped. "It's just. I never expected your music to-"

"I'm sorry," Erik sighed. "I should have warned that my playing seems to have certain affects on people."

"Do not apologize Erik." Mia whispered. "I have never in my life heard anything as beautiful as I have tonight. Thank you for sharing your talent with me."

"Thank you for listening." The two continued to stand adjacent from each other, never losing eye contact.

"Erik…About what happened here…last night…" Mia trailed off.

"I'm sorry. I just-" Erik was cut short as Mia gently brushed her lips to his. Intending to pull back, Mia found she couldn't as Erik's gloved hand was now caressing the back of her head. Leaning down Erik deepened the kiss, nibbling the misshapen lips over Mia's pink mouth. Mia's mouth opened letting out a small moan, taking advantage Erik took this opportunity to kiss her like a true French man. The two's warm tongues continued to mingle and dance in the shared cavern of Mia's mouth. The warmth that shot through the two demanded more, until passion finally gave way to oxygen.

Mia's brown orbs opened slowly finding Erik's two gold irises starring intently at her every detail. Untangling his gloved hand from her hair, Erik reached down to grab her smaller one. Bringing the top of her hand to his lips his kissed it lightly. "Good night."

"Good night."

**Well…what did you think? Did you like the kiss? I know some of you were waiting for that. Tell me what you think! We're so close to 110 reviews! I can't wait for 120! I'm still in shock. So if you guys want a new chapter soon, push the purple button! Don't forget Nadir is still sitting in Erik's living room with the morphine. Let me know what you think.**

**Erik: Please do, besides school and work she really has no life.**

**Hey, I'm proud of that!**

**Erik: Sigh /swings Punjab lasso/ you know what to do…**


	16. The idea of chance

**Okay, can I just say Thank you! So many reviews it made me feel so wonderful! Once again I cannot begin to express the creativity I have felt come to life in this story! Thank you so much! Now, Erik has a few words.**

**Erik: She owns nothing but the original characters and this fiction based plot. Any sort of plagiarism or copying of her story will not be tolerated. /Swings Punjab lasso/ Understood?**

**I hope they get it. **

**Erik: On with chapter 16**

**Don't worry we will eventually have chapter titles…one of these days…**

The warm lips that had minuets ago been on Erik's were now replaced with the man's bony fingers. Walking back into the drawing room he greeted his Persian friend with a nod.

"Is something wrong with your lips?" Nadir asked.

"No." Erik replied, removing his fingers and replacing them with a sip of wine. 'Not the same.' He thought. Taking a seat across from the Daroga, Erik reclined into the sofa mind still at Mia's quarters.

"I think she's wonderful." Nadir stated.

"…What?" Erik asked, coming back to Earth.

"Mademoiselle Sclar. She seemed to be a good person. The two of you really did appear to have a lot in common."

"We do." Erik mumbled.

Seeing that his friend was not in his normal state Nadir thought to use a trick. He had used this long ago when he was still a detective. The best way to question a witness was when they were distracted. "This wasn't her first visit down here?"

"No."

"Did she enjoy her time here?"

"I assume."

The Daroga kept up his pace in the questions, taking a stab in the dark. "You've kissed her, have you?"

"Twice…damn you!" Erik glared, realizing what he just admitted. "You and your annoying detective games."

The Persian shrugged, "You were the one off guard for once, old friend."

"Touché" Erik smirked. "It was rather nice though. Kissing a woman without her tears pouring into your mouth…I was beginning to wonder if all woman tasted like salty eye release."

Nadir remained silent, allowing his friend to indulge in his memories of Christine. "Mia appears to be very different from Ms. Daae."

"You mean Madame De Changy? Yes, Mia is very different." Erik sighed. Mia was a matured woman. Christine was a child to him, a little girl who would forever need not just a lover but a father as well. Erik did play a father to her. He had given her away to that boy. Though before that moment, he wanted to play the lover. This vision of innocence that he had tainted with his presence was his living bride. He at first foolishly leapt into the idea of having her by his side for the remainder of his natural life. Then the months had turned into minutes. Nadir and Raoul were in the torture chamber, Christine trying to kill herself, as Erik himself had taken a more than healthy dip into the pool of madness. It was in Christine's tears that made him realized it was out of pity.

Erik wanted to be happy like any other man. He wanted a wife who had vowed to love him. Christine agreed to marry him so should could save her beloved. Her Raoul. It was then Erik began to realize she could never love him like he loved her. He didn't want a wife out of pity. He did not beg, and he did not take pity. He had sent her off with that boy forever. He would cherish her memory, her companionship, and her kiss. That was all he could keep of her now. Christine was no longer love; she was just a memory of a past obsession.

"Erik?"

Gold eyes met Persian brown orbs.

"Is the withdraw affecting you?" Nadir asked concerned. "Your eyes keep glazing over."

"Just thinking." Erik shook his head. "…Is there really only two weeks left?" The magician asked voice shaking. "…Then no more."

"Yes." Nadir nodded. "However, you seem to have kept preoccupied pretty well…Mia doesn't know." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Mia knows a lot Nadir, however as I weigh the information she doesn't know to the information that she does know…it appears she doesn't know a lot." Erik laughed bitterly. "I'm setting this up just like Christine, aren't I?" He demanded to himself. "I usually do learn from my mistakes Daroga! I usually do! How would I begin to tell her, though? I could give it to her all at once…Yes, stand close by waiting for the information to set in. Watching those brown eyes of hers role into the back of her head, catch her before she hits the floor from fainting. Scenario number two; write her a letter like I do the management, then come back after she had time to read. I just fear I might have to clean the blood up from her cracked skull that impacted with floor! Here's a thought! Maybe she wont faint…maybe she'll just hate me…She has been nothing but honest with me Nadir. Why do I keep secrets from her…Yes, maybe she'll hate me, Nadir. Then after she never wants to see me again, my worrying will be in-vain…There is not future for a relationship when one person despises another…I have learned that much, dear Daroga, have I not?"

"Erik! Snap out of it!" Nadir demanded. "You can't work yourself up into a situation that may or may not exist. I may have only met Mademoiselle Sclar a few hours ago, but she is not Christine. Why should she act the same way? It is your right and hers to give her a chance to know the truth. She has already shown you trust hasn't she, she did touch you? Did she not?"

"_You have…why," "…I have hurt others…I have killed…I don't deserve this…I feel this…I feel warm…I never want this feeling to go away…but…but I don't deserve it."_

"_Erik," "Everyone deserves to be touched. That is our right as living beings with souls…we all deserve to be touched…we all deserve to be warm. Nothing can change that…nothing."_

Nadir stood slightly alarmed as Erik's hand suddenly grasped at his heart. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Erik breathed. "For now, I am fine. We'll see how she reacts to the truths. She does deserve a chance to know…Mia did see beneath my mask, now I will let her see into my very soul."

"She's seen!" Nadir gasped.

"If you are hoping for a story, it will have to wait. You see it is near dawn. I must meet Jules and get my monthly requirements. You are more than welcome to accompany me though." Erik invited slowly making his way to the door.

"I'll walk with you." Nadir agreed, "But then I will take leave as well."

Erik nodded putting on his cloak.

"Oh and Erik," The masked man turned at his name. " I'll just leave the morphine here, then." The Persian stated leaving the unasked for narcotic on the table.

**/Blink, blink/ I really didn't attend to make things that emotional…Bonus points to me! That's what I love about Erik's personality. His emotions tend to bounce back and forth like one of those inflatable clown dolls that you punch over and over again.**

**Erik:…I can't tell you how great I feel knowing my fictional existence rests in you creatively challenged hands…**

**Thanks/Squeal/ We're so close to 120 reviews! 120! I never expected that, please keep them coming. They really do encourage me to keep posting. A brief warning! In case some of you didn't notice this story has been kind of slow. Starting soon the plot is really going to be picking up! So be prepared! Also guys, if it's not too much to ask, tell me _what_ you enjoyed…I'll try to do more of it!**

**Erik:…I think that _is _too much to ask. Please review, no flames, no stealing, and no suing. **

**Erik? Can I play with your Punjab lasso?**

**Erik: No.**


	17. A step backwards

**Hello! Thank you all for reviewing! We passed 120! I never thought this story could go so far.**

**Erik: As long as we're being honest neither did I.**

**/Glare/ Anyway, I've been really sick lately, and I was hoping that writing would swing me out of my slump. Perhaps the reviews will boost what little ego I have, and get me feeling like myself.**

**Erik: She's a head case…She also owns nothing, except for any original characters and this fiction based story plot. Plagiarism or copying of this work will not be tolerated. **

**What he said, Please review no flames. Warning: Drug withdraw symptoms, and violent mood swings are ahead for the next few chapters. Not for the squeamish…however if you are familiar with Erik…it shouldn't be a problem for most of you. His whole life story is as grotesque as it is beautiful. On with chapter…**

**Erik: Seventeen.**

"You stupid fool!" Erik sobbed. "What were you thinking going to her in this state." The unmasked man chocked. "It's all over, you've lost another person who could understand. Probably the last one of your miserable life."

The weeping artist lay curled up on his bathroom floor. The symptoms of withdraw vomited into a bowl. Erik's body was no longer in control; his drug usage was almost gone, his addiction still ruling him. All he could think to do now was lay there. The last time he had tried to move the result had ended in muscle spasms, regurgitation, and a black out.

Only a week ago had Mia been in this very house. The meeting between Mia and Nadir had gone beautiful in Erik's opinion. Now the Persian detective would but out of Mia's affairs. As for Mia, she would no longer wonder about being stocked by Muslim missionary. After walking with Nadir to get his supply from Jules, he had returned to his home only to go right for the narcotic.

He could still feel the sting of the needle injecting the liquid euphoria into his bruised arm and collapsed veins. The almost orgasmic sigh the erupted from his lips. His could no longer be with Mia now, so he had to find another way to resolve his lingering feelings.

After his conversation with the Daroga, Erik fully intended to go to Mia the next day and come clean. Tell her of his addiction, and the effort he was making to end it. However, as the temporary cloud filled his mind he began to once again have doubts.

The morphine had been known to make Erik almost chatty; under its influence he would say anything he did not mean to speak of. What if he told Mia more than he was ready for? If the subject of Christine were come up…Erik wasn't ready for that. True Christine was no more, but she was still a short important chapter in Erik's long life. He fully intended to tell Mia everything…not now, one thing at a time.

Erik had waited two days for the drug's hazy control to leave his senses. That was his last dosage until next week…then there was no more. If he wanted to tell Mia he should do it now, before his withdraw symptoms kicked in. He knew he would soon be a nervous sick weakling. He was reaching for his cloak when doubt filled him once more. He felt foolish enough for hiding things from her with all of her trust. He would feel even more like a fool if he were to barge into her room, and just tell her about the morphine. Erik suddenly felt he needed a reason, an excuse to see her.

Things were moving down hill. He never needed a reason before; they would just sit down and talk about anything and everything. Now he was forcing himself to find a reason to pay a visit to a woman he was beginning to think of himself as 'involved' with. When would this deceitfulness end? Feeling his lenient morals of right and wrong fade, Erik sought comfort and his first love.

Was it truly possible to lose two days to music? For Erik it was quite easy, this was the man who had claimed that his first six years of solitude below the opera had gone by in the blink of an eye. Rising from the organ, Erik started to shake. He was feeling weaker by the minute. He knew he should stay here until his next dosage. Going to Mia now would mean her seeing him in this state. Erik also knew that leaving Mia alone for almost two weeks would be cruel to them both. After their last good bye Erik had longed for her touch constantly. His only regret from their kiss was that he did not hold her closer. He longed for the feeling of a woman pressed up tight to him in a single embrace. They had held each other that way once before. When Erik had unmasked himself. Overcome from the swelling in his chest Erik grabbed his cloak and mask and headed immediately for the lake…

Making his way to the trap door Erik gave three brief raps. He waited through the hesitated pause before the pattern was repeated. Opening the trick, Erik rose up to Mia's floor, waiting for the artist to make her presence. Mia soon appeared from behind the dressing screen. Her unbound chestnut hair flowing wildly around her nightgown and robe causing Erik's, questioned, heart to skip a beat.

"Erik!" The Russian woman seemed to be glowing. "So good to see you, I was beginning to wonder. I know you didn't say when you would return…but I assumed it would have been sooner. Is everything alright?"

Staring into the brown depths Erik debated on how to respond. "I've been preoccupied. I am sorry if my absence has offended you."

"No! I understand!" Mia smiled. "Opening night is next week after all. You must have written to the seamstress because the woman finally came around. Although light blue is pretty common it's the best hands down when compared with that tacky orange…Erik?" She questioned. This man who was always alive with awesome power was now standing quietly still. Mia was half reminded of one of her brother's old toys that would wind down after the key was lost.

"Erik?" She tried again. Seeing his head jerk up, Mia was beginning to wonder about his well-being. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine. Just thinking." He was looking past her now, breaking the eye contact they had become so familiar to using.

"Would you like some tea?" Mia tried.

"…No thank you my dear…you were saying? Please go on."

He had never rejected her simple form of hospitality before. With this one visit he feared he would destroy all their progress and trust. Was he really going to sacrifice this? He was feeling more confused by the minute.

"Yes," Mia hesitated. "…I want to show you something Erik." Mia announced reaching for a scroll case she kept by her desk. "You don't have to look at these now you're welcome to take them with you! These are the sketches for my home."

Erik's gaze managed to focus on her at those words. "I started designing it sense I was six years old. I wasn't till I was a teenager that I realized that I wanted to one day build this house and live in it…Seeing your home has inspired me so much Erik, you had a similar dream and brought it to life…I guess I just wanted you to see it…Maybe get your opinion if it's not too much to ask. I would value it. Hold them as long as you want."

Erik stood up abruptly causing the scroll case to roll onto the floor. "Your life's dream? You would entrust something like that to me, why?"

"I told you I trust you Erik. What more proof do you need?" Mia asked confused.

"You shouldn't! Do you hear me? Don't trust me! Do you know what secrets I have kept from you, do you?" Erik shouted.

Mia stood from the bed. "I know you're keeping secrets Erik! I will not pry! I trust that when you are ready you will tell me!"

"You fool!" Erik shouted grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her close to him. "Even when I am ready to tell you, that doesn't mean I can! Your trust is in vain, you hear me? In-vain!" Stopping his rant abruptly Erik stared at Mia's eyes. The brown orbs that held excitement moments ago were now clouded with something Erik was all too familiar with…fear. Erik released her immediately and fell to the floor at her feet.

"I'm sorry!" He sobbed. "Oh God! I'm sorry!"

"Erik?" Mia gasped looking down at him. "What's wrong?"

"Forgive me, please!"

"Yes, yes! I forgive you!" Mia stared falling to her knees as well. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she tried to get a better look at him. He was beginning to shake and his breathing was now coming out in raged gasps. "Erik…you're scaring me, should I get a doctor?"

"No!" The phantom gasped. "No doctors…they can not cure the disease that has consumed my mind. This cancer that eats away at my soul."

"Erik…"

Shaking the said phantom stood, retreating to the trap door. "Forgive me Mia…and then forget." Sliding through the opening Erik caught one last glimpse at Mia. Kneeling on the floor the bewildered woman stared, her down cast eyes focused on only one thing; the forgotten scroll case.

Opening his sunken eyes slowly Erik continued to lie on the floor of his marble bathroom. The cold floor and permanent silence his only comfort. "Stupid fool." He whispered. "She was your last chance at happiness…and you hurt her…you deserve to lay here and never rise…" There was no greater sin in Erik's mind then to hurt a woman. He had not only hurt, but betrayed her as well. He did not deserve death it was too easy, he deserved to die slowly and alone. This was the same fate he had chosen when Christine had left, history would repeat itself, except this time their would be no romantic interlude. When hell's burning boat would arrive at his lake's shore he would board it without a second thought. He would start another travel into darkness. He would travel as he always had…alone.

**Yeah, like I said beware of mood swings…Two good things though. The next chapter begins another fork in the plot, and it's very possible, with enough reviews, that it could be up tomorrow night!**

**Erik: Bribing the readers?**

**You bet!**

**Erik: I should have known…**

**Please review guys! They help me so much…especially when I'm sick and feeling crappy enough as it is! Tell me what you liked, and I'll see if I can incorporate more of it into the story. No flames.**

**Erik: I wouldn't worry about that…where's my Punjab lasso?**

**/Hides it behind her back/ What do you mean?**

**Erik/pulls out a spare/**

**Damn…**


	18. Forgiveness

**Sorry! I was very ill, when I planned on following up the story. My dear friend Ashley had to drive me to the ER that night! Ever sense then I have felt slightly off, I think it's the time change. Anyway, I am back and hope that this awaited chapter isn't a disappointment to you all. Thank so much for helping this story reach over 130 reviews! It means so much. I would also like to dedicate this chapter to two very dear people.**

**To Ashley thank you for being my sister and showing me how to "Take pain like a woman", when I threw up in your car. **

**To Erik, you have inspired me, and I pray this chapter does not disappoint. To my muse please guide me till the end.**

**Chapter 18**

Opening night at the Garnier was filled with happy faces and gay emotions. Men and patrons paraded their wives or mistresses on a proud arm. Couples continued to sip champagne and gossip on the latest Paris affairs as if no one had a care in the world. Perhaps in a way Mia was rebelling. She walked through the gala hall with eyes closed and ears plugged from the happiness. Erik. That was all that was on her mind. She had not seen him sense last week during that horrible episode.

The Russian woman didn't know what she could have done to cause such an up roar in him. She said something wrong. He was trying to end their ordeal, and she wouldn't give him a word in going on about her stupid designs. Had she really driven him to a breaking point, causing him to lash out and act violent towards her? Deep in her soul Mia knew these weren't the reasons. Something was deeply wrong within Erik himself. Why wouldn't he tell her? He had looked horrible; maybe he hadn't come back because he wasn't able. Memories of the strong man a shaking mess on her floor drove her mad. What if he's…

"Ah, Mademoiselle Sclar!"

Mia turned around quickly to meet face to face with her managers. "Good evening Monsieur Richard, Monsieur Moncharmin. I trust you both are well."

"Quite and may we assume the same for you?" Monsieur Richard asked.

"Quite." Mia lied. "Are the sets with your approval?"

"More than we could have ever imagined!" Moncharmin praised. "I just personally wanted to thank you for all your hard work!" The manager smiled grabbing Mia's hand to kiss it, the same hand Erik had grabbed.

Mia winced, pulling back her hand.

"Is everything alright?"

"Sorry," Mia breathed. "I just over used my drawing hand is all, it's a little sore."

"Best to take it easy then, we wouldn't want it to interfere with you talent, would we?"

"No," Mia paused, spotting a familiar face across the room. "In fact I best go wrap it now, so it wont get sore. Excuse me Monsieurs!" The artist apologized swiftly leaving their presence.

With all of the decent manners Mia was taught she rudely pushed her way through. _I can't let him get away. _Pushing past the last couple mumbling an apology, she approached her target.

"Monsieur Khan? May I ask how your relationship is with _him_?"

"Mademoiselle Sclar? How are you this evening?" The oriental questioned.

"It's…as good as can be expected. I was not aware that you attend the opera." Mia stated.

Nadir smiled, "Erik raved about it so much in Persia. Since I have been in Paris I now hold a season ticket." The Daroga could have sworn the color drained out of Mia's face when he brought up his old friend.

"Monsieur," Mia begged. "You must tell me how he is. The last time Erik approached me he was in such a state. He was almost…fragile. I will go mad if I do not know of his health. Please Nadir is he well?" Mia asked, forgetting all the formality of her current environment.

"He is…"The Daroga stopped. When he gave Erik his final dosage of the morphine he was in a horrible state. The Persian dared say it was worse than after Christine Daae had left. Erik spoke of something between Mia and himself, but Nadir could not make out what the masked man was saying. The sobbing and yelling combined had muddled his anguished words. After a few minutes of that Erik had told Nadir to leave and not return until he was dead.

"_Leave me! Do not return until I am dead!"_

Nadir did not know if Erik really would go through with death. Surely he was not that foolish.

"He is…?" Mia repeated, wanting Nadir to snap out of his thoughts and tell her of Erik's condition.

"He has not told you then." The Persian stated. "He should have from the beginning."

"Told me what?" The artist asked.

"I can not say."

Mia just nodded. "I understand." She whispered.

"However," The Daroga continued. "He can…and he will."

Before Mia could question him, he held up his hand. "There are too many people about to go now, the curtain rises in ten minutes…Do you know the Rue Scribe? Meet me there in twenty minutes."

Mia nodded without a second thought. "Thank you!" She almost smiled, quickly making her way back to her room.

Meeting Mia at the gate by Rue Scribe, Nadir noticed all she seemed to carry was a scroll case. Nodding his greeting the Persian pulled out a small key to unlock the gate.

"Is this a short cut?" Mia whispered.

"This is the way I get to Erik's home, whether or not it's short is debatable." Unlocking the door he led Mia along the secret passageways to were the boat was kept.

Arriving at the house Nadir did not even bother to knock as he opened the door. Mia followed him closely behind. Giving a quick gaze around the drawing room, Nadir realized the only occupant was Ayehsa who was oddly circling Mia's feet.

Mia's lips gave a faint smile as she reached down and to let the cat smell her hand. After a while the picky Siamese allowed the Jewish woman to pet her.

"I'll go see if Erik is…decent." Nadir paused choosing his words carefully. Going on into Erik's chamber first he noticed the coffin was open and empty. Giving a sigh of relief the Daroga went for the second bedroom. The place Erik laid the last time he wanted to die.

Nadir couldn't help but sigh; he was getting too old for this. His hunch was right as he found the unmasked man resting in his mother's old bed.

Yes, Erik was resting. The smallest movement of his chest rising and falling told the Persian that much. Without evening the slightest bit of warning the resting body sighed.

"Why are you here Daroga?" The yellow eyes slowly opened, now making contact with Nadir's.

"You didn't tell Mademoiselle Sclar."

"You are disturbing me for that?" Erik shouted, sitting up. "Perhaps if I were to draw open a vein you would care to pour some salt into the open wound? I know that! It's too late to tell her!"

"Draw open a vein Erik! At least if I poured salt into it, it would be salt not morphine!" Nadir's remark was cut short. He barely noticed Erik had stood up, and now his hand was wrapped around the Persian's neck.

"E-erik! Get a hold of yourself!" He barely managed to choke out before the grip loosened.

Yellow eyes widened in shock. Erik's eyes focused on his hand, the very hand that seconds ago had tried to strangle his best friend.

"My God what is wrong with me?" Erik collapsed. "I hurt Mia and then I almost try to murder you? Forgive me Daroga! Please! One person dear to me will not forgive, I could not stand it if you felt that way too!"

"But I did forgive you…"

Erik's gasping stopped. He felt as if he could no longer breath. His gaze fell to the doorway to see if it was true…it was her.

"Mia?"

"I have forgiven you Erik. Now it is time for you to forget. Their is no need to pour salt into an open wound." The Russian said.

"…You know of what is going on?" Erik asked.

"I'm not sure what is going." Mia confessed. "I think I do, but I could be wrong…if you would like to tell me though Erik…I will be more than willing to listen…Perhaps we should wait, you look like you could use some rest…Would you mind if I borrowed your samovar to make tea?" The artist asked managing a weak smile.

"That's fine…" Erik whispered. "That's fine…"

Mia was about to leave the room when Erik stopped her.

"Mia! Perhaps after you finish the tea…you would honor me by showing me your sketches?"

Her eyes closed, refusing to allow the tears to fall. "The honor Erik," She whispered, not looking back, "would be mine."

**Oh my…you guys will have to tell me how that chapter affected you…I was crying during some parts while I was writing it. If you didn't find it that emotional we'll say I was crying because I'm happy to be back! Thank you for the reviews! Please keep them up maybe by this chapter or the next we'll hit 140! No pressure of course…I own nothing except or any original characters and this fiction based plot.**

**Now on a very IMPORTANT note. I want to say this. /Holds up an egg/**

**Erik: Oh God…**

**This is your brain! Erik a pan!**

**Erik/Sigh/ Hands her a frying pan**

**This is your brain on drugs/Smacks the hell out of the egg/ Any questions?**

**Erik: None… Please review**


	19. Unexpected confessions

**/Glomps Erik/ 140 reviews!**

**Erik: …let…go…**

**Sorry! Oh my gods thank you all so much! I could cry (I think I am) with pride. You like it you really like it! Okay, here's the drill! I own nothing except this fiction based plot and original characters…they and this fanfiction belong to ME! Not you, don't take! Thank you for all the reviews…I encourage you to continue hint, hint! Erik, love, would you?**

**Erik: On with chapter nineteen.**

When Erik opened his eyes that morning his vision struggled to adjust to the light. True as it was that his home was not the brightest, five cellars below ground level. However, when you have slept as long and as deep as Erik even a small candle's light can seem blinding. His yellow eyes soon adjusted to the light of his drawing room. For a brief second Erik lost track of time. He had been in this situation before; bedridden on his own sofa, while out of his line of vision he could sense a woman preparing food. _'Christine?'_

"You're scowling Erik. Does that mean you're awake?"

"Mia." Erik sighed in relief. Suddenly his memory began to catch up with him.

The European man had been beyond shocked when he realized Nadir had brought Mia to his home. She had forgiven. She had forgiven _him_, asking for nothing in return. She hadn't even demanded to know what was going on, she only offered her ear if he wanted to talk about it. Erik was feeling out of sorts, not just because of the morphine. He had heard of these kind types, these woman who care for your privacy and well being without much in return. Erik just believed he would never actually meet one.

While Mia had gone to prepare the tea Nadir had helped Erik into the drawing room. The small group had remained uncomfortably silent as Erik carefully drank his tea, preparing himself for what was to come.

"Mia," Erik began. "The reason I am sick is due to an addiction."

"Morphine…"Mia finished.

Erik stared at her. "How did you-"

"I noticed an empty syringe lying around the first time I came to your home. Just a few minutes ago…I saw the empty packet on your night table." Mia sighed, looking down at the fancy carpeting. "…I'm not stupid…how long?"

"More years than I care to count." Erik answered. The shock of Mia knowing was easily erased. She was far from stupid; with the clues she had picked up it was a matter of time before she would have put it together. Besides it wasn't as though the country of Russia was foreign to the drug. In the run down cities around Moscow addicts would give the shirts of their backs for a simple dose. It was just like in Persia, the poor would sell their own children just for a puff off an opium pipe.

Conversation seemed to be lacking the rest of the night. Eventually Nadir had retired to his own home, leaving Mia to keep Erik company.

"Would you rather rest here, or in your bed?" The artist questioned.

"No my dear. You may use that bed as well as that room. I am fine were I am." Erik sighed, knowing he would not have the strength to climb into his coffin.

He simply received a nod as Mia rose from her seat. "If you wont find it terribly rude of me then, I'll say good night."

"Good night." Erik repeated. "…Mia, thank you."

He was surprised when she continued to stand with her back facing him. His ears picked up her shaking breath as she managed a whisper. "…Are you dying?"

Erik gave a bitter laugh. "Aren't we all?"

"That's not what I met!"

The phantom stopped his teasing, this was the first time Mia had ever been short with him.

"From the drugs…are you dying, Erik?" She still had her back facing him, but her posture had changed. Her head was bowed and her arms were locked around herself. She was…shaking. For the first time in almost a decade Erik felt guilt so tremendous he feared he would be ill again.

"Mia, my dear. Please face me." The artist stiffed, but remained facing the direction she was in. Erik was beginning to feel even uneasier. One of the things Mia had always given him was eye contact. He wanted the familiarity! He wanted to talk to her like a human being did. He wanted to see her brown depths full of mirth and passion. She was breaking off one of things he had become so accustomed to.

Reaching his arm out Erik gently held Mia's wrist. "Please." He asked once more, guiding her to sit besides him. Once the Jewish woman was by his side he used his other hand to slowly bring up her chin. The deep brown orbs remained downcast and tear glazed.

"My dear," Erik sighed. "As far as my knowledge goes, this will not be the desire that kills me. I fear I will die from an addiction far greater than this one."

Mia choked looking back down. "What addiction might that be?"

"An addiction," Erik paused to tilt Mia's chin up. "Of love. I fear I shall die of love, Mia. Die of love for you."

The brown eyes that were once rimmed with tears were now overflowing. The Designer's mouth kept opening trying to form words, but all she could manage were gentle sobs. Trying to regain herself Mia managed bury her face into Erik's shoulder. "Please do not die of love." She cried. "…I could not stand to be here alone without you."

Erik laughed, pulling her closer to him. _'Do you hear this God? Do you? She is saying this of her will! I will not let You hurt her! I will not die!' _

"I will not die." Erik whispered. "I will not leave you."

After a few minutes Mia's sobs had died, and her breathing evened into gentle slumber. Erik could not remember how he managed it, but he had carried her back to his mother's bed.

He tried to remember how he had made it back to the sofa to sleep, but he could not. All he knew was he had awoken there the next morning, his mask removed and placed on the table.

"You're scowling Erik. Does that mean you're awake?"

"Mia." Erik sighed. "Yes, I am awake. Forgive me for scowling, I have no reason to." _'As long as you are here beside me, I will have no reason to again.'_

**Alright, here is my confession. I cried while I was writing this…I couldn't help it the tears just sort of poured out along with the words. I'm sorry. /wipes eyes/. I really did not mean to put that last part in there, but it just kind of slipped out. Please let me know how it affect you, or I'll just assume I'm crazy, go ahead and say it Erik!**

**Erik: Which wouldn't be too far from the truth…no it was too easy…**

**Thank you so much for helping us reach 140 reviews. I hope you enjoyed. Remember the disclaimers from above. I would also like to warn you that the next chapter might be a little late. I am flying up to see my parents for Thanksgiving. I will try to update next Sunday night, however I might be a little jet lagged. So if you'll be patient, and review till then, I hope to have the next chapter up as soon as possible!**

**Erik: Happy Holidays, and please review.**


	20. Dreams and reality

**Chapter twenty! We made it! Thank you all for the reviews! How was your holiday? **

**Erik: Tell them about your holiday…**

…**I prefer to stay in good spirits thank you! So, I'll just say the plane ride was nice. I can't believe all the reviews! You guys have no idea how much you have all inspired me! Thank you so much! Just remember I own nothing but any original characters and this fiction based plot. Anyone stealing anything from my story will be punjabbed.**

**Erik/Twirls lasso around/ On with chapter twenty…the sad thing is I don't think she's even close to the ending…**

**Shh! You'll ruin the suspense!**

Tired hands continued to sketch and resketch as Erik sat at his desk. After Mia had gone to bed the previous night Erik had spent the entire evening looking at her design plans. She had trusted him with her most precious possession. Erik had learned, that these designs Mia had been working on sense she was a child through most of her adult life. They were her plans her dreams. Mia one day planned to build this house and live in it.

The designs were incredible, beautiful, and completely wrong. 'They would crumble' had been Erik's first thought. Mia was a very talented and gifted designer, however she knew absolutely nothing about architecture. 'Or at least how to design it' Erik added.

Upon seeing that the structures and archways would not support the second story, the phantom began to sketch copies of Mia's plans. He would add the corrections later, but for now he would simply resketch the originals. He didn't want Mia to know of his plans. 'No' He smiled to himself, 'She must wait and be surprised.'

Warmth. It seemed to be coming from the very sheets of the bed. Mia knew it was well past the time when she usually would get up, but she could not remember ever being this comfortable. With the thick sheets and velvet cover Mia felt like the Grand Duchess of Russia. All she knew about the bed was that it once belonged to Erik's mother. The covers and other fine linens obviously had to have come form his salary as an opera ghost. Mia frowned as she sat up to get dressed. While Erik's mother had been deceased, her's was very much alive. 'She's probably wondering why it's taken me so long to answer her letter. I suppose I should try to write back to her in the next few days.'

Finding the clothes she had folded at the end of the bed, Mia began to dress. She had noticed the first morning she awoke in the house by the lake that the room was designed for a woman. The closet and chest of drawers both contained woman's clothing. After seeing the fancy French style and dust on the cloth Mia assumed the clothes once belonged to Erik's mother. She would have borrowed them, but she was afraid they wouldn't fit. Corsets and chemises were things Mia had only seen in person when she first came to Paris. In her home in Russia woman tended to be more voluptuous, and preferred to dress in multi-layered skirts for warmth rather than constricting cloth and gartered stockings.

After buttoning her dress and fixing her hair, she opened the door to the drawing room. Walking in Mia was very surprised to see Erik up and at his desk. She could see from his charcoal stained fingers that he had been sketching something and was now putting a few papers away in his desk drawer.

"Good morning." He greeted turning around to face the artist after, syncing her presence. "How did you sleep, my dear?"

"Very well, and you?"

"I didn't." Erik confessed, standing up and walking towards her. "In fact I was up all night looking at your designs." He admitted handing her, her scroll case.

Mia tucked the case by the sofa smiling. "Well, what did you think of them?"

"My dear," Erik started bringing her to sit next to him on the sofa. "As far as designing and art go, your talent is unlike anything I have ever seen. However, when it comes to architecture you know nothing."

"What?"

"Mia." Erik sighed, "Half of the arch ways would not support the second level, the building would collapse."

"Oh, well I always knew that…deep down…" Mia confessed. "The plan always was to give these designs to an architect once I could afford to, and have him redesign the house so that it would hold. Of course I wouldn't want him to change much, thus the detail of the designs. I didn't want to leave much to the imagination as to what my home would look like."

"Would?" The masked man inquired.

"Erik," Mia sighed, looking at her hands folded in her lap. "Sometimes dreams are dreams…for a reason. To stay dreams."

"Absurd."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said absurd. Mia a dream can still be a dream even when it is made into reality. That only makes it more beautiful."

"To some," Mia muttered. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, and neither would you. You're just avoiding the topic. You're also being very pessimistic, and it's not like you." Erik pointed out.

"And you, Mousier, are being the optimist, which is very unlike you."

"You're changing the subject."

"Please?" Mia begged. "Let me change it."

"Fine…"Erik sighed. He'd bring it up later of course, but for now he'd obey her request. "What shall we discuss?"

"You." Mia stated simply.

"I beg your pardon?"

"May I ask you a question, Erik?"

"Just one?" Erik asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Hmm." Mia hummed putting a hand to her chin, eyes looking up at the ceiling faking deep thought. "Two, three tops." She admitted.

"I figured as much. Ask away."

"If you were alone in your home." Mia began. "…Would you wear your mask?"

"What?"

"Would you?" Mia repeated.

"My dear," Erik sighed rubbing his left temple. "I fail to see your reason for this inquire."

"The reason is you." Mia stated. "If you do not wear your mask when you are alone in your own home, why do you wear it when I am around? I have you seen you now…three times?"

'When I first showed her. Erik counted. When Nadir brought her here three days ago…When I woke up with my mask placed on the table, she took it off when I was sleeping.'

"You are not disgusted? Frightened? Horrified?" Erik demanded. He naturally always became defensive whenever the subject of his face was brought up. It was his right.

"Do I really need to repeat myself, every time this comes up?" Mia smiled.

Placing her hand gently on the mask's edge, the artist looked into the man's yellow orbs. They closed in silent permission as Mia removed the mask without hesitation. Although Erik did not hear any cries from Mia he could still hear the screams of terror from decades of exposing himself. The cries of hundreds of people forever haunting his ears.

Mia placed her right hand on Erik's cheek and slowly kissed each sunken eye until they opened. Her brown irises met Erik's gold depths as she smiled. "I love you for who you are. Nothing else matters to me but that."

Leaning down Erik's misshapen lips reunited with Mia's. Enveloping them both into a warm security no words or force could ever break.

**Yea! Chapter twenty done! How was it? Please read and review to let me know! Please remember that I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot…oh yes. I know some of you are waiting to know when Erik and Mia's relationship is going to…progress. I am going to say that I don't think it will be anymore than two-three at the most chapters away. So for those of you waiting for the 'love scene' you'll just have to hang in there…Oh and review of course…Thank you so much and see you next week!**

**Neko**


	21. Of norms and advances

**Reviews! Yeah! I am so beyond happy to the point that I'm practically skipping around the room whenever I check my e-mail! I'm so thrilled that we're this far into the story and you all still seem as happy with it as Erik and I are.**

**Erik: …I'm ecstatic…**

**Well almost…Once again I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Do not steal and do not sue or else!**

**Erik/holds Punjab/ Chapter twenty-one**

Soft melodies gently filled the house by the lake as Erik continued to compose at the drawing room's piano. Although when he first started he felt slightly awkward going about his normal business while Mia was still in his home. After asking the European woman if she would be bothered by his reclusiveness she had simply brushed it off, asking if she could borrow some of his stationary while he played. Erik had begun to play glancing over his shoulder occasionally only to find Mia engrossed in her writing. A few hours later when he repeated his checking he found her at his stove preparing dinner as she had the past few days before.

It had taken some adjustments for Erik to get use to eating dinner. For decades he had trained his body so that it only required one meal a day, which he would usually forget about. Erik was quickly learning that Mia's normal human habits were going to snap him out of his usual wine and cheese snack every two days. Returning his attention to his work Erik noticed the other lady of the household was in agreement with the first. Ayesha was stiffly sitting across the ivory keys, preventing Erik from continuing his composing.

"My jealous darling, are you telling me to take a break?" Erik asked, leaning his bare forehead against the feline's. Receiving a lick under his sunken eyes the artist scooped up the feline in his arms and carried her with him towards Mia.

"Done composing already?" Mia asked, as she continued chopping up vegetables. From the smell of the boiling water Erik guessed she was making some sort of stu.

"I try to rest every six hours or so, otherwise my hands tend to get numb." Erik stated cracking his fingers. "Enjoy your letter?"

Mia sighed, starting to chop the vegetables faster. "Not really."

"A franc to know whom it is for."

"My mother." Mia sighed, continuing to chop faster. "Keep your franc."

"Ah, is she that horrible?"

"That yenta," Mia muttered. "Takes me a step closer to an institution every time I think of her." She stated, unaware that she had lapsed back into Russian.

"Then why are you continuing the journey now?" Erik asked, in her native tongue.

"Because." Mia continued chopping even faster as she spoke. "Chanukah is coming up, in her last letter she wanted to know if I would be coming back to visit. Then she persuaded me with guilt, about had old Baba is getting. How my sister will be disappointed if I don't come to see my new nephew. She just knows what to say to get me to come, but I hate that I would submit to that-that"

"Mia." Erik cut in watching how blindly she was chopping the vegetables. "Be careful or you might-"

"Drick!"

"…Do that…"

Watching the dark haired woman take her index finger into mouth, Erik could not help to suppress his chuckle. "You are truly acquainted with the knife my dear. It didn't take you long to find a target."

"It's not funny." Mia muttered from around her bleeding digit.

"Forgive me." Erik smirked, walking up to exam the wound. "It's not deep, thankfully." He diagnosed, running his finger over the cut.

"Yes, but those just tend to sting more." Mia winced.

"That they do." Erik replied taking the digit into his mouth. He gently began sucking on it tasting the coppery liquid of blood. His gold eyes set on Mia's face, and her pink tinted cheeks.

Catching Erik's gaze Mia simply shook off her surprise. "Is this one of your gypsy cures, Monsieur?"

Erik stopped his action, tracing Mia's cheek with his left hand. "Your blushing cheeks, give away your playful tone, my dear."

Her eyes closed as she gave up her defense. Instead of fighting his hidden advances, she leaned into his hand's warm touch.

Picking up her cut hand, Erik kissed her palm. Gently he began to pull back the sleeve, stopping to glance at the faint bruising around her wrist. It was his turn to feel pain. He remembered when had been in her room and grabbed her so forcefully. It was his fault that light flesh was covered with the marks of his violence.

"It doesn't hurt." Mia whispered, noticing his gaze. "…But maybe you should check."

Taking the hint, Erik's lips ghosted over the bruise continuing up the Jewish woman's arm until his eyes met Mia's. Closing his lips over her's the two kissed more forcefully than they had before. Mia arm's wrapped around the tall man's neck, as Erik's hands ran themselves through her thick chestnut hair. They embraced themselves tighter as if trying to melt themselves into one body. Mia gasped feeling Erik's tongue moving inside her mouth; the pink muscle trying to explore his partner's cavern. One of Erik's hands moved towards Mia's dress collar, beginning to play with button.

Just as the phantom was about to unfasten the binding, the shrill ring of the bell to the lake went off.

"Damn Daroga." Erik cursed, pulling away.

Mia muttered something as well; thought Erik didn't understand the Yiddish term. Watching her smooth over her dress, Erik leaned down to gently kiss her forehead, before going to retrieve his mask.

A few minutes later, Erik showed Nadir in, after giving his traditional greetings.

"Mademoiselle Sclar, I trust you are well?"

"I am, thank you. May I assume the same for you?" Mia smiled.

"Yes you may."

"Perhaps then, I might interest you in some vegetable stu?" The artist offered.

"That would be lovely…assuming everyone is not opposed?" Nadir questioned, looking at Erik.

"No, we are not. Shall I take your coat then old friend?" Erik asked. 'I'll choke you with it later.'

Through out dinner and afterwards Erik was beginning to feel like an old painting being studied in a museum. Every move, gesture, and word that took place between Mia and him Nadir watched like a scientist would an experiment. He was very much aware that the Persian's other motive, besides checking on Erik's health, was to learn or spy on he and Mia's relations.

At first Erik was near furious at the idea of Nadir acting as some chaperone in his home. However, after careful consideration, Erik was beginning to have fun with the idea. After dinner in the drawing room Erik sat directly next to Mia his arm around her shoulder. It was nothing shocking to them in any way. This was a position they had been in the previous night; Only Erik had been reading as Mia sketched. The previous action repeated itself when Mia gently leaned her head on Erik's shoulder, listening to the conversation taking place.

Although Erik slightly enjoyed the slight stare of Nadir's gaze, or the first initial shock that caused his eyes to widen, this performer, for once, was not showing off. Erik did not mean to pride Mia around like a trinket to be shown off. He was just being as subtly as he could think of trying to pass his message to Nadir. 'We are fine my friend. There is nothing to worry about for once, you nosey Persian dolt.'

A few hours later, after Nadir's dispatcher, found the two in the second bedroom. Erik had initially walked Mia in to bid her good night. He, however, ended up taking a seat on the bed with her when she showed no sign of fatigue. He simply watched her now; Her fingers playing absently with a strand of her hair as she reread her letter for the twelfth time.

"I'm not sending it." Mia sighed crumpling up the parchment and lying down.

"Why not?"

"…I don't want to go back to Russia. Not now."

"…It will only be for a few days." Erik reasoned. "…She will eventually begin to worry about you…or so it sounds."

"I know." Mia sighed, rolling over onto her side, mumbling something into the pillow.

"What was that?"

"…Come with me."

"Pardon?" Erik asked looking down at her.

"Are you going deaf, love?" Mia yawned, putting a hand to her mouth.

Erik sighed, "I believe congratulations are in order, you just caught me off guard." Looking down at Mia once again, Erik noticed her expression wasn't as mirthful as his.

"You would really wish for me to meet your mother."

"Not just mother." Mia spoke closing her eyes. "My father, Baba, Alexandra, Demetree, Netee-" She yawned. "And Peter…my whole family lives under one roof…not too much privacy. If just my mother met you-" She yawned again. "The rest would know you were there before dinner."

"That is what I'm concerned about." Erik sighed. "Wont your family be the least bit concerned and horrified about your involvement with a monster like me? A strange French man who wears a mask? Or would you simply prefer I go over there with you, hand your mother bouquet, and show her my face. Just think after she faints and splits her head open, you wont have to worry about her bothering you anymore. Then maybe before the rest of your family can get an explanation you and I could simply hop back onto the train and be back in Paris before New Year's Eve. Is that alright for you my dear?"

When Erik looked down the only response he received was Mia's gentle breathing from her deep slumber.

Sighing Erik removed his mask, and placed it on the nightstand before lying down next to her. "How someone as patient as you could come into my life and tolerate my cynicism is a mystery that I can not solve. How do you put up with an old monster like me?"

Kissing her forehead as a silent goodnight, Erik closed his eyes letting sleep take him as well.

**Yea! Done! Chapter Twenty-one! Please remember the disclaimer from above. Now all I can do is ask you lovely readers to keep reviewing! Yes even you ghost phan fiction readers!**

**Erik: That was a horrible pun.**

**I know…Please read and review!**


	22. Don Juan Triumphant

**More reviews! We passed 170! **

**Erik: …**

**You see Erik isn't speaking to me due to the fact that this chapter has finally come. Yes, the chapter that some of you demanded in the last reviews…so here it is. Once again I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot. Do not steal and do not sue!**

**Chapter twenty-two!**

'How in over half a century of life did I manage to live without this?' Erik thought to himself. However, he had managed to go without for all those years. For years Erik had built up that the joy to lay with a woman would perhaps be the grandest thing in the world. He believed all his life that if he ever achieved this feeling, this satisfaction he would role over and die of joy. However, Erik did not wish to die. Now that he had tasted true pleasure, he wanted to do nothing more than indulge himself in it for the rest of his days.

The feeling of Mia pressed so close to him in her deep slumber was enough to set him a blaze again. The feel of her nude body pressed against his seemed almost beautiful. Nothing seemed disgusting or wrong, she loved him. Continuing to run his fingers through the long hair that covered them both, Erik began to think back. Back to that morning and it's events.

At first Erik had been so surprised that he had fallen asleep at all. Although he did intend to rest next to Mia, he did not intend to sleep. He just wanted to be next to her body, and feel the warmth that radiated from her skin. The steady sound of her breathing to show that she truly was a living woman staying in his home.

Upon waking he could not stop himself from running his bone thin fingers across her cheekbone. He did not mean to wake her, but when her brown eyes opened all he could think to do was kiss her good morning.

Surprised and eager, Mia kissed back, allowing Erik's tongue to probe into her mouth. Feeling her own mingle and dance with his the Jewish girl moaned before pulling away for air.

"I didn't know you were a morning person, Erik." Mia smiled. "You are definitely in a good mood."

Running his hand down her cheek Erik tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "My dear, do you always make conversation this early in the morning…or do you not want my affection?"

Mia's eyes widened in surprise as Erik sat up, pulling his hand away from her face. "If you are uncomfortable. I shall stop…I wont force you to do anything you wouldn't want me to do…I would never dream of hurting you in anyway. Not again."

"Erik…" Mia gasped sitting up, putting her hands on his arms to prevent him form leaving. "Please, I…I do not mean to push you away. Erik, I have never been this close to anyone before…anyone…and…I suppose I'm nervous of this closeness. I know I have no reason to be…I do not mean to run from your affection, I want to embrace it…"

Leaning his head down, Erik's lips claimed the artist's without hesitation. The swollen misshapen flaps moved against hers as if speaking silent sentences. No words came from either. All that was heard was the occasional sound of gentle nipping or breathing.

Mia's arms found their way behind Erik's head; one hand resting itself on the back of his neck, the other caressing his dark hair.

Breaking away from Mia's lips, the phantom began to trail kissed down Mia's cheek, until stopping at the collar of her dress. Both had fallen asleep in their clothing from yesterday, she was wearing the same dress as the day before. Erik remembered he was beginning to undue the same button until Nadir had come unannounced. However, the daroga was not here, right now. Even if he had been, Erik didn't care. He had wanted this to long. His thin fingers began to pull gently at the collar buttons until they finally unfastened.

Erik kissed the exposed skin while his fingers continued to unfasten the dress's bindings one after the other. His hands stopped when he realized he was one button away from Mia's breast. He was about to ask her for her permission when he felt her tugging on his dress shirt.

Looking up he noticed Mia's hands seemed to be in debate with her mind on what to do about his shirt, which was tucked into his trousers. "Anxious, my dear? Surely you will not allow modesty to get the better of you now?"

"You are one to talk. Do not tell me you paused your advances just to ask for my permission?"

"…And if I am?"

"Don't." Mia replied cheeks slightly pink from the knowledge of what was coming.

"And as for you, my dear." Erik started, taking her hand. "There is no need for modesty in a time such as this." Placing her hand at the tucked hem of his shirt, Erik helped Mia to pull lose the garment.

Returning to his previous task the phantom continued to unfasten Mia's dress until the garment could be pulled down to rest around her hips. His gold eyes rolled over the thin layer of her under blouse. He knew that not many women outside of France wore corsets and at the moment Erik was grateful he would not have to deal with unfastening one.

Noticing Mia's head drop, Erik kissed her forehead to show his approval, his lips paused when he heard her speak.

"Sorry…I know I'm not…like most French woman…I'm not as pretty as some anyway…"

Pulling away Erik held the designer's chin, forcing her to make eye contact with him. "My dear, it is true you are not like other woman. That is one of the many qualities I have fallen in love with. Do you know that? And you are beautiful Mia. Even if you weren't do you think that is a quality I would be particular about?"

Mia scowled. "Erik, you are beautiful, in my eyes."

Sighing Erik ran his hands along Mia's back, tangling them in her hair. "My dear, please. Let use not get into this now."

"I'm not getting into anything, until you understand." Mia demanded looking her partner in the eyes. "How beautiful and important you are to me. This face," Mia gestured putting her hands on the sunken cheeks, has nothing to do with who you are inside. Your soul is what is beautiful to me Erik, which is what I fell in love with. How is love not beautiful?"

"Even if I am an ugly monster?" Erik swore at that moment that Mia growled.

"You are so frustrating!" She yelled aggravated. "Do you not listen?"

"I am frustrating? You are frustrating. You who are just sitting before me like this, trying to start a conversation, in this state." Erik emphasized running his hand over her cloth-covered skin. "Are saying that I am frustrating?"

"Yes." Mia replied, putting her hands on either side of his head and kissing him hard. "…Very." She panted.

"…Agreed then." Erik said tugging away at her final top layer until her breasts were bared before his eyes. "But you know, I think I'll take your frustrating self over your modest one." Erik admitted, fingers faintly tracing a circle along the base of her right breast. "But I wonder…just how frustrating can I be Mademoiselle?" The magician asked, continuing to trace little circles until Mia's nipples aroused into full erectness.

"…Very." Mia gasped.

"Oh?" Erik asked, his head moving down. "Perhaps I should not bother you then?"

"…Who ever said…that frustration…was a quality I found disagreeable?" She shivered, feeling Erik's mouth move so close to her breast gave her feelings she never knew she could posses. Not just emotionally, but physically. Her stomach was warm and almost cramped from arousal, and she could feel a dampness gathering from her womanhood. All she knew was that she wanted Erik as close to her as possible.

Taking the pink nub into his mouth, Erik gently ran his tongue over Mia's sensitive flesh. His other hand was mimicking the movements on Mia's left breast, when Erik began to notice just how aroused he was. He had been doing his best to convince himself to be patient. He had waited this long, surely his arousal could hold out longer. He wanted Mia to enjoy her pleasure. He wanted to prove to her, and himself, that he could truly give her more pleasure than she dared to dream of.

Switching his mouth to her other breast, Erik felt Mia tugging on his dress shirt. Without removing his mouth Erik removed himself free from the garment. Looking up into the brown depths, Erik's breath hitched as Mia began running her hands across his bare chest.

He was so much thinner than other men she had seen, but so strong at the same time. Allowing her hands to run across the lean back is when Mia first felt it. Scar after scar after scar. They were very old, but very permanent. Erik must have noticed her pausing, when he stopped her exploration. "The scars I carry are very old. They will forever remind me of the hell that I have endured, until now."

Mia kissed his shoulder. "Leave them in the past, there is no reason for the scars to remain here as well." Mia gestured, running her hand across his heart. The woman gasped as he pulled her closer, that was the first time she had felt his desire for her. The desire that was brushing against her leg. Her mind clouded as the reality of the situation seemed to fade. All she wanted right now was to be with Erik, the closer she got to him the more complete she seemed to feel.

Running his hand across Mia' bottom Erik began to tug at the clothing that had collected itself around her waist. Bringing herself up on her knees, Mia helped Erik slide down her dress and skirts until she was nude before him. Throwing the garments on the floor, Erik took a long gaze at Mia's form. "Beautiful," He breathed kissing her stomach. Pulling her into his lap, Erik's hands and mouth roamed. He massaged and licked anything he could touch simply just to pull a sound of pleasure from her throat. His own cry startled him at first as Mia's hips gyrated over his trapped member. 'If I don't do something soon, I'll go mad.' Moving one hand, Erik gently unfastened his trousers, the whole time feeling Mia's curious gaze.

Pushing herself off his lap so he could undress, Mia unintentionally brushed across Erik's arousal again. Biting his lip to hold back a moan, Erik pulled off the clothing as fast as he could, threw it on the floor, and pulled Mia back into his lap. Kissing her full on the lips, Erik let his hands roam down her nude body again, pausing just above her sex. His fingers hesitated at first before moving over her womanhood in small circles. Mia arched her back, before moaning his name.

Erik was doing his best to recall certain parts of the female anatomy that he had read about over the years. Hearing Mia gasp, as his thumb brushed higher, he knew he had found her clitoris. Wrapping his arm around her waist for support, Erik continued his assault on the nerve. At first he gently ran his thumb over the nub, before rubbing faster in time with Mia's movements. The thrill of her pleasure affecting him as well, as her cries crescendoed he too was getting closer to the edge. 'Not yet.' He told himself. He wanted to give her pleasure first, then he would receive his own.

Sticking his index finger gently into her passage, Erik could feel her warm juices coating his digit. God, he wanted to be inside of her. He was about to add a second digit when he felt it. Just as Mia's back arched, her muscle's clamped down and shuddered in spasms repeatedly against him. Erik could not fight the smirk that spread across his face in pride. He had given her pleasure. She had cried out his name, because he had done everything right. Now, Erik just wanted the same.

"Mia." He whispered in her ear. "We do not have to continue." He spoke in Russian, unsure if her mind could comprehend her second language at this point. "But I would be honored if you would let me, please." At this point pride was no longer in the picture. Erik would beg if need be, he just wanted to be with her as he believed he was suppose to be; as a man would be with a woman.

"…I want you…I want you to continue." Mia panted. "I know what you are asking of me, and I want the same." She finished. Kissing him deeply as he lowered them both down onto the bed. Once on top Erik gently pulled Mia's legs apart positioning himself only by instinct. "Mia, are you sure?"

Nodding her head Mia readied herself.

"Please tell me if I hurt you? I can not promise I wont." Receiving another nod, Erik gently slid himself in, not stopping until he was completely sheathed in Mia. He knew he should have gone slowly, but he did not want to watch her painfully adjust inch by inch.

Mia closed her eyes and bit her lip. It hurt; it wasn't unbearable, just uncomfortable.

Erik stilled himself inside her warm essence waiting for the verdict. After a few moments of adjusting, Mia nodded her head. "…I'm fine…it just feels strange…I can feel you here." She motioned rubbing below her navel.

"Am I hurting you?" He demanded.

"…No." Mia shook her head. "…It's fine." She smiled, pulling his head down for another kiss. Erik returned the kiss as he slowly pulled himself out of Mia before pushing back in. His hips gently moving in love's age-old dance. He could feel the rhythm of their bodies, just as if he was playing it at his organ. Their blood rushing together in harmony, the pounding of their hearts like the steady back beat that lead an orchestra. The climax of the opera was building, their pants and gasps a crescendo building higher. He could feel the final scene rushing upon them. The ending lyrics were being sung in the ear, the final note being held out in its glorious pitch and then silence filled the theatre.

Silence had hit as Erik collapsed on Mia's panting form. The two simply lay together, slowly being brought back into reality's light. Gently pulling himself out of Mia's body, Erik rolled them over, so she could lie against him instead of being underneath. Gingerly Erik began to run his hands up and down Mia's back, waiting for exhaustion to take them both back to sleep. Before Erik could rest his ears picked up Mia's gentle whisper, "I love you."

Erik did not reply, knowing that Mia was already asleep and would not hear him. He continued to lay with her wondering and reflecting on how all of this had happened. Just as he was about to join Mia in sleep, Erik's gaze drifted down to the carpeted floor. Among their scattered clothing were sheets of staffed parchment from a music score. He did not need to read the title, he remembered throwing the damn score in this room before Mia had even been to his home. Besides their was only one score he had ever written in blood red ink; 'Don Juan Triumphant'.

**Oi /stretches/ I didn't really plan on writing the love scene tonight…It just sort of came out. You'll have to tell me what you all thought of it. Because, personally I'm not the best at this sort of thing…so tell me what you think in a review, please. No flames! Remember I own nothing accept any original characters and this fiction based plot! Please read and review! I am now questing for 200! Well in the future…**


	23. Interrupted by past obsessions

**I'm back! How did everyone like the last chapter? Hopefully I did not scare too many of you off, with such a scene. I'm happy to say that there are only three major events that stand in the ready for this story. Two of them you might have already guessed. As for the remainder all I can say is it begins at the end of this chapter.**

**Erik: She does love a good cliffhanger. **

**Yes, I do. Please remember that I own nothing except this fiction based plot, and any original characters.**

**Erik: Anyone found guilty of flaming, stealing, or suing will be punjabbed.**

**Chapter 23**

Sleep was something that very rarely came easily or comfortably for Erik. There for it was perfectly understandable that having a good sleep interrupted would be most irritating. That was how Erik was feeling now; irritated. Something had been brushing across his cheek for over five minutes and it was really beginning to anger the phantom, whom had been sleeping fine until the infernal brushing began.

Snapping open his eyes, Erik was quickly able to determine the source of the brushing sensation. The crossed blue eyes of Ayesha seemed to burn holes right through him. The infernal swishing of her tail, the real culprit, was her subtle way of asking 'Who is this woman in my place?'

"My dearest little lady, are you jealous?" The unmasked man inquired. Removing his left hand from around Mia's waist Erik reached to pet the Siamese. "You do know you are my first and only gift of heaven."

"…Of course she is…Just as Brian will forever be the first male I ever loved."

"My dear, how is your cat? You have been here for several days."

"He's fine." Mia stretched, before curling herself back against Erik's side. "I left him enough salted pork to last over two weeks. My greatest fear is that he would have consumed the whole thing in two days…I could return to find my poor darling suffering from a horrible case of feline indigestion."

"I would not worry," Erik sighed, placing his arms around the artist. "I do not think he would eat it all so fast unless he was spoiled."

"…Darling? What do you feed your dear Ayesha?" Mia questioned.

"Caviar and cream, why?"

"It's just a miracle that she isn't fatter." Mia stated, running a finger across the diamond collar.

Gently taking hold of Mia's wrist, Erik rolled the two of them over, until the Russian was pinned underneath him. "Is there something wrong with me wanting to spoil the women I love?"

"…There is nothing wrong with wanting to spoil Ayesha. Cats always think of themselves as superior no matter what. Why not help them live out the fantasy?" She smiled.

"And as for you?"

The smile disappeared. "I do not terribly care to be spoiled like some child. I grew up without some things that some people take for granted. However, that has helped shape me into the person I am. I take pride in my career as a set designer. I want no special treatment. The greatest reward is the satisfaction that my work helps to contribute to something that is enjoyable to others…And now you are staring at me very funny. Have I offended you?"

"No!" Erik shook his head. "I just, know exactly what you mean."

"I'm glad." Mia stated. "Then you wont be terribly upset when tomorrow I must see the managers to find out what they will require for December's events."

"Why tomorrow? The managers will not do business on Sunday." Erik sighed leaning his head across Mia's bosom.

"Tomorrow is Monday. Although it may still be before dawn, today is Sunday."

Erik's eyes widened and his head shot up. "Sunday? The first Sunday of the month?"

"Yes, of December." Mia answered. "You have a calendar."

He did, but he had been neglectful of marking it off since Mia first arrived. "True. My dear if you will excuse me for an hour at the most!"

"Where are you going?" Mia asked, wrapping the sheet around her as she sat up. "It is not even light outside."

"I realize that." Erik stated as he tugged on the trousers that had been flung on the floor. "I must meet with Jules. I always meet him on the first Sunday of the month, an hour before daybreak. He is the one who, shall we say, does my shopping."

"So this Jules." Mia guessed. "Is the one who buys your food? Your clothing?"

"Right." Erik confirmed, walking towards his room to fetch a clean shirt. 'And this visit, I must ask him for some rather important favors.'

Pinning his cravat in place, Erik headed for the second bedroom to retrieve his mask.

"My dear, do not feel the need to be up and dressed on my account." The Frenchman reasoned, watching the Jewish girl pick up her clothing. "I will be back in less than an hour, I promise"

"If I were to lay down until then, will you join me once you return?"

"I hope to." The unmasked man replied before kissing her.

After three short pecks Mia pulled away. "Keep that up, and you'll be late." She scolded playfully.

Erik shrugged. "It would have been a noble excuse to be tardy." Placing the mask on his face, he brought her hand to his lips. "Until we meet again."

Walking down the moon lit streets of the Rue Scribe is where the Phantom found Jules. He was waiting as usual as far away from street or lamppost as he could. 'Just as you always have, just as I have always asked you.'

"Monsieur!" Jules spotted with relief. "I was beginning to wonder if you were being delayed."

"I apologize for my tardiness. I was asleep for once."

"Quite fine! So…am I to continue to not buy anymore morphine?"

"Yes." Erik nodded. "Until one of us is dead. I also have a few favors I must ask of you."

"Anything Monsieur." Jules insisted looking up at the masked man.

"I have included extra money in the envelop for my supplies. I need you to make travel arrangements, for two, by train to Moscow, Russia."

"Russia? Monsieur."

"Yes, I will of course need arrangements back for two. Here is the other shoe; I need the arrangements to be by mid-December. I apologize for it being on such short notice. But-" Erik admitted, "I have faith in your abilities to get such a task done."

"I will have it taken care of Monsieur!" Jules declared. "Think nothing of it."

"Very good, I also need you to take a letter to the Post. It's just a notice to an investment banker in Rouen."

"Bank?"

"Yes, One of the few to survive from the Revolution. Thankfully." With that said, Erik handed the Belgian three envelops; The letter to Rouen, Money for next month's expenses, and payment of twelve thousand francs. 'Two thousand extra for two extra arrangements.' Erik told himself. The man really did have a large family to feed.

Picking up the boxes of supplies Erik was about to turn to leave when the timid voice paused him. "Monsieur…I just wanted to tell you that…you stopped asking for the morphine…it's nice to know the Lord finally answered some of my prayers."

Erik pivoted on his heal, to look Jules in the eye. "You should not waste prayers on my well being. You have more than enough to pray for. Your eldest son still has tuition to be taken care of does he not?"

"No Monsieur." Jules smiled. "No more. He is finally a doctor."

"…Very good." Erik congratulated. "Now I am afraid I must say good morning."

Just as Erik loaded the last of the boxes into the rowboat, he stood and turned around. "If you were going to follow me all the way from Rue Scribe you could have at least helped me with the boxes Daroga."

"So you did know I was following you?" Nadir asked stepping out of the shadows.

"Always and forever." Erik sighed stepping into the boat. "If you have come to inquire about my supplies I assure you there is no morphine among them. Not that you trust me."

"I do trust you Erik." Nadir confessed. "About the morphine at least."

"Then you are not a complete fool. If you are looking to be welcomed into my home, I must tell you, you are not invited. It is still rather early."

"I find that understandable." The Persian nodded. "I'm sure Mademoiselle Sclar would not be pleased at company during this hour."

"Yes, and I can assure you Daroga. I know for a fact that she is currently indecent. Good morning." Erik closed, rowing the boat away from his friend. He was just a little over two feet away from the shore when he heard it. The same sound he had heard when he first offered to show the man how to pick pockets in Russia; Nadir Khan's laugh.

After hanging up his cloak, Erik headed straight for the second bedroom. He was, however, a little disappointed to find Mia sitting at the vanity instead of in bed.

"I told you, you did not have to get up, my dear." Erik reminded from the doorway.

Mia's eyes remained fixed on the mirror. "I was afraid I would fall asleep, I wanted to wait for you. So I was preoccupying myself by just tidying up." Mia frowned looking down at her hands.

"You do not have to do that sort of thing. You are my guest, not my maid."

"So…I am just a guest."

"I would like to think of you as more than that." Erik confessed, walking up to the vanity. "…What is that you're holding?"

"Nothing." Mia sighed. "I should not pry."

"Do not hold back any inquires for my well being Mia. I would prefer you to be honest about anything that I have done to put you into a state of such...melancholia?"

Sighing the artist placed the item in her hands onto the vanity. A handkerchief. Softly she traced her fingers over the embroidery. "…Was Christine your mother's name?"

**I think I'll leave it there. I love cliffhangers, I find it encourages the reader to continue and perhaps…review? We're up to 175; the very idea of 180 thrills me beyond belief.**

**Erik: If you dare to dream of such self confidence.**

**…Now I'm back to being depressed.**

**Erik: Your welcome.**

**/Sigh/ Please remember the disclaimers from above! Please read and review! No Flames!**

**Erik/Swings lasso/ Until next chapter.**


	24. The truth regarding Christine Daae

**Happy Holidays to all! I just hope your holiday is going better than mine has so far. So due to this evenings events I turn to writing for release. This chapter in particular is a nice one to let the stress flow out into. Thank you very much for reviewing, we have successfully passed 180. Thank you all for your continuous support. I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot. Please do not sue or steal.**

**Chapter twenty-four**

"…Was Christine your mother's name?"

Erik suddenly could not even begin to make since of anything in the world. Mother? What about mother? She was miserable and unhappy from the day he was born, until the day she died. Christine? What of Christine? She was most likely living in an expensive mansion with her fop and many fop like children. What did this have to do with him right now?

All Erik seemed to care for right now was to know which arm began to tingle before a heart attack. 'Please don't be the left.' Erik begged. His left limb was tingling! Not again, he didn't want to die now. Not without giving Mia an explanation first!

Maybe he did want to die. What would Mia think after he explained what had transpired merely a month or two before their meeting? What would she think of him? What would she think of him? Suddenly the tingling in his left arm was turning into numbness. His head was beginning to spin, and the lump in his stomach was beginning to make him ill.

"Erik?"

The said magician snapped out of his daze.

"…I should never have pried. I would have been ecstatic going about not knowing this name. I would be fine assuming the female garments in these closets once belonged to your mother. I guess I was ignorant…" Mia laughed bitterly, tossing the handkerchief at Erik's feet. "But I am not blind."

Bending down to pick up the handkerchief, Erik's thumb traced the embroidered name. He still remembered the one evening when Christine had asked him for a handkerchief. He had a tendency to reduce her to tears during any event regarding the poor care she gave her voice. She had asked him, who did not even poses a nose, for a handkerchief.

"_Oh, Erik! I didn't think, I'm so sorry!"_

Oh she did think. Just not before she bothered to speak. Sighing Erik brought a chair from the corner; placing it beside Mia he sat trying his best to face her. Her gaze seemed to stay transfixed on her lap. It was now or never, Erik told himself.

"Christine Daae…" He began. At first Erik did not even know were to begin. He recalled all the way back to when he first heard her speak, when he was waiting for the manager to arrive.

"She was gossiping with the little Giry girl? You have seen her?" Mia did not give any sort of response.

The conversation was still etched in Erik's mind. All he had overheard was that this Christine had lost her father, not uncommon in this day and age, and now was waiting for the angel of music. An angel that was suppose to give her the gift of song. Taking in a listen Erik's ears had been all but bleeding as a result. Oh, she had pitch. Perfect pitch! What the girl lacked was strength. Her voice had been so weak; Erik could hear it drowning out on the stage.

A part of him had yearned to teach such a voice from the very beginning, but he decided against it for better reasons. Taking a quick look at the girl, so he could not make the mistake of hearing her twice, was the downfall. She looked just like his mother! A younger happier mother that Erik had never personally met, but knew existed before his cursed birth.

"…It baffled me. Truly baffled me. Seeing an almost exact version of her, so young and innocent…"

At first it had been only look with no touch. Perhaps even truer phrases; to look without it being known you were looking. Then he had taken on the role of her angel of music. That had led him to the position of look, while she thought somebody else was looking at her. Erik was content; Christine was a triumph by his teachings alone. She was all he needed in his life, and the angel was all Christine ever wanted.

"Raoul De Chagny…"

This young upstart had been the reason things had started to demise. This young chap had brought out Erik's jealousy. Jealousy was a very dangerous thing to bring out in Erik. He truly believed that it was his jealousy, his anger towards the Viscount, which had caused him to bring Christine down to his home in the first place.

Oh it was a splendid evening, Christine locked in a trance by his voice. She was not even aware of Erik's mortality until she awoke. She awoke only to rip off his mask. He had almost strangled her that very night. He was sure he would have if his sick heart had not betrayed him.

"The very first person I ever entertained in my home. Up until then Mia, I had lived six years in solitude. On the very first visit I had an attack and almost died."

Unfortunately for him he lived, he endured being stricken to a sofa. Not that Christine minded, he knew she felt safe while he was unable to move about. She just made herself at home, playing nurse to an old fool.

From that point on in Erik's retelling, things began to speed up. He couldn't help but rush the tale and speak out the details into the blurs they had become. In his mind, things had seemed to go down hill at this point. The two musicians possessed too many secrets. Erik with his drug addiction, and blood coated past. Christine also had secrets, which Erik had known about. Her relationship with the Viscount seemed to grow as theirs dwindle into argument after argument.

Oh how he loathed, when he heard of their escape plans. They would simply vanish. Christine was going to leave him without even a goodbye. Erik knew he had snapped at that point.

The chandelier had fallen, he had spirited Christine away to his home. All was going perfect in his mind. Nadir and the fop were in the torture chamber burning away like lost men in an African jungle.

"…I can not tell you what Christine exactly said to me. I myself cannot recall a lot from that time. I was not all there you might say…When she agreed to marry me, I realized then that it was out of pity. I did not want a wife out of pity Mia…I wanted someone to love me because they did…I let Raoul and the Daroga out of the torture chamber…I gave her away like a father would a daughter, to her new husband…I believe that is all I was to her…the father she could no longer have…after they left I laid down ready to die…Just as I was when Nadir brought you down here. You remember? …That Persian dolt, saved me again…a few months passed when I was up exploring the theatre again…I accidentally caused the back drop of the new set to fall down…that night, you remember? From then on, I swear on my talent Mia…my heart has had nothing but you…"

Erik's swallowed waiting for Mia's verdict. Instead of the cold sentence he had been expecting all he received were her sobs. These were not the gentle sobs he had seen before, the ones she desperately tried to hide. Her entire body seemed to shake as each tear fell down her face. The hand covering her mouth muffled her words, but Erik's gifted ears could hear perfectly what she was saying.

"She hurt you…The first time in so many years you trust someone…and she betrayed you…"

"My dear," Erik interrupted. "I have made peace with that. Do not harvest any anger, on my behalf."

"No…but I have betrayed you…"

Erik felt his heart sink. "How?"

"…I betrayed your trust…Your relationship with Christine is over…I…I thought…"

Erik could not help but laugh in relief. "You thought I was keeping her on the side? Oh my dear!" Erik laughed, bringing Mia into an embrace.

"No! I am horrible! How could I not trust you?"

"Natural human curiosity, my dear. You made a clever assumption…deep down, you knew I was hiding something…I have not seen Christine since that day, I do not think I will again…I do not want to…" Erik admitted.

Mia's breathing slowly evened out, as she continued to rest in Erik's embrace. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"…Erik?"

"Yes."

"You and Christine…you said you only touched her…just during the kiss goodbye…"Mia mumbled.

"My dear," Erik sighed, "I never slept with Christine…You were my first."

"Oh." Mia breathed, burying her head into Erik's chest.

"I can assure you that this simple embrace that we are sharing now is something I would not dare to have ever attempted with Christine."

"I'm sorry for pestering you like this." Mia apologized. "I know the last thing you desire is me comparing things between myself and a woman I never met."

"It is natural for humans to be curious…and a tad paranoid." Erik replied teasingly. "…But if you really care to my dear…I will be overjoyed to show you some of the actions that never transpired between Christine and myself…"

**Okay, my stress level just went down…gods bless writing.**

**Erik/Ahem/ **

**Of course you help me a lot to, Monsieur muse! Thank you so much for the reviews! If the chapter was to your likening then I'm sure you reviewers wont mind sending me another one! Please remember the disclaimer from above. Also if you guys missed the memo is doing an upgrade on the 30th. So it could delay my update a little. Also my grandmother is having surgery, and I'm the nearest relative…so I'll try to get the next chapter in as soon as possible. Please read and review, and have a Happy Holiday!**

**Erik: Happy New Year, as well!**


	25. Last minute arrangements

**Happy New Year! Did everyone have a good holiday? A nice break from work and classes? I hope everyone's holiday went well, because now it is all over…**

**Erik: I get the feeling you're not terribly disappointed.**

**…Not really, thank you so much for all the reviews! Keep them coming! Please remember I own nothing but any original characters and this fiction based plot.**

**Erik: Stealers will be prosecuted by death by Punjab**

**Chapter twenty-five**

Erik could feel himself slowly being pulled out of slumber by gentle caressing.

"Erik?" Mia spoke softly. "Darling? I need you to wake up."

Without even opening his eyes, the phantom wrapped his arm around the artist's waste pulling her down to lie next to him. "Why would I want to do that?" Erik spoke into Mia's hair.

"I need you to take me back today. I need to speak with the managers about December's events."

"My dear," Erik sighed. "That can wait till later can it not? I was planning on spending some more time here with you."

"Sleeping the day away." Mia inquired sitting up.

"…No."

"Well then…" Mia replied, beginning to dress. "If you wish to continue last night's performance…I fear it will have to be an evening show."

"Mia," Erik reasoned, "Every December the managers give the cast and crew of the opera time for a holiday. The only performances will be the poor over worked orchestra playing those damnable holiday songs over and over."

"Then I would like to make sure myself, just in case they changed their minds." Mia assured. "Say they did, I could lose my job for not showing up and knowing about it."

Erik laughed, "My dear, with simply one letter to the management, you will have an iron clad contract for life if you wish."

Mia was buttoning her last button when she paused to look at her lover. "Erik." Mia began walking up to look into his sunken eyes. "I got this job on my own…I can keep it on my own as well. I do not need your assistance. Please promise me you will never do such a thing?"

"My dear, you have no idea how much I hate making promises…One might forget in a moment of urgency. Besides, I know how important your career is to you."

"Erik."

"The mangers know how rare your talent is, you career will never be jeopardized."

"Please."

"…I promise."

"Thank you." Mia smiled embracing him. "Now if you would please get dressed and take me back I would be most grateful."

After returning Mia back to her room, Erik took to the streets before returning home. He normally hated the very idea of venturing out into the daylight. However, with the cold air of December the Parisian streets were nearly disserted. Keeping the hood of his cloak pulled up, no soul that passed him would even notice the mask.

Retracing the steps he had taken many of time, Erik found himself outside the middle class flat, which was Jules's home. Making a brief knock on the door Erik turned away incase Madam Bernard was the one who answered. Erik tried to avoid her as best he could ever since the incident regarding Jules's middle child falling down the stairs.

To his relief, the door was answered by Jules himself. "Ah, Monsieur. I was just wondering how I was going to give the train passes to you. You did not say when to meet."

"Forgive me, I was preoccupied that day. So I can assume that you have already acquired the train arrangements so quickly?"

"Yes, Monsieur." The Belgian replied, reaching into his coat pocket. "Here. I hope your travel is safe and warm. I hear Russia is terribly colder than France."

"It is." Erik sighed. "However, I am no stranger to it. I spent many years in Russia. It will be a relief going back to a country were few people pry." Bidding his goodbye, Erik began his way back to the opera house. 'But first I must deliver a message'

After reaching the Rue de Rivoli he was immediately shown in to Nadir's flat by Darius.

"Quite a surprise to see you here in the day time." Nadir commented taking a seat across from Erik near the fire.

"It is not as thought I am some sort of vampire from the legends. I just prefer night's cloak around my shoulders." The phantom commented.

"So today is an exception why?" Nadir inquired taking a sip of coffee.

"I have come to tell you myself that I will not be able to keep our weekly meetings until January." The masked man informed.

"Oh?" The Daoga raised an eyebrow. "Going out of town for the holidays?" he joked.

"Out of country actually." He replied, taking a sip of the offered drink.

"What?"

Erik sighed reclining back into the chair. "Mia's only family lives in Russia. They miss her terribly, and wanted her home for Chanukah. I was so surprised that Mia would even extend an invitation to me to accompany her…What else could I have done but except." He shrugged.

"Does her family know you are coming?"

"I do not know if Mia has even mentioned me in her letters. I doubt she has written very much since our meeting…Wont that be a surprise to her poor mother?"

"Seeing how Mademoiselle Sclar reacts to everything leads me to believe that her family would have to be the same-"

"Daroga. I do not need your assurance…I do not know what this meeting will hold. But if it's what she wishes." Erik whispered to himself. "It is getting late, I need to meet Mia soon. Good-bye Nadir. You will take care till the new year, I trust?"

"Yes, if you will."

"We shall see." The phantom sighed putting on his hat.

"Erik? If there is anything I could do for you or Mademoiselle Sclar…it would not be a burden."

"I do not need your charity or advice to keep us content…However, Daroga…there is one thing."

Standing in the doorway of his home, Erik watched Mia slowly un-pin her hair. "I am not asking you to say anything my dear."

"Then I wont." The artist smiled, shaking out the dark locks gently.

"However, you do know I was right." Erik reminded.

"Yes," Mia sighed walking towards the architect and putting a hand on each cheek. "You were right Erik. The management does not need me until next year. Only the orchestra will be employed till then." She sighed looking into the yellow orbs. "Forgive me for not believing your all knowing genius. May I bow in respect?"

"No need to go that far…I am sure there are other things you could do to repay for such as sin."

"Such a modest god. The one I grew up believing in was more vengeful." Mia stated in mock sincerity.

"I can be like that to." Erik admitted. "However, I can also be surprising." Reaching into his waistcoat pocket Erik pulled out the two train passes. Before the Russian woman could comprehend what the documents were Erik ripped them up in his hand. Closing his hands together in a prayer pose, the magician showed his palms again revealing them both to be empty of any torn paper.

"Nothing in this hand, nothing in the other. Perhaps you care to check your dress pocket?"

Reaching in the said compartment Mia pulled out two whole piece of parchment. Looking over the documents her eyes widened. "You didn't have to do this. I have been saving to buy my own ticket since my first salary-"

"My dear," Erik silenced, placing a finger to her lips. "Think of it as my gift to you. Just as the portrait was merely a gift from you."

"Then you will come with me?" Mia smiled. "To Russia?"

"If that is what you wish. If you think it will not put too much of a shock on your family."

"No! They'll love you!"

Erik laughed. "My dear, one person is enough. I do not need to spread such a hard task onto people whom I am going to be meeting unannounced. Not to mention you make it sound as though day-to-day things are hard enough. I would not want to kill anyone by forcing such a ridicules-"

Mia's kiss silenced Erik's cynicism. "Trust me." She whispered before kissing him again.

**Sigh, so tell me what you thought of that chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews so far, you phans are incredible! Once again I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot!**

**Erik: Yes, you mentioned that.**

**You're grumpy. Did someone forget to feed you?**

**Erik/glare/**

**OH! Your tea! Uh, please review! No sue me; I still have to by my textbooks! Bye-bye!**


	26. Memories of better travel

**Hi there! Oh after my first week of classes and work and falling into a familiar routine…I want nothing more to do than write. Thank you so much for the reviews! They make me feel so much better, especially when Biology scares me so much…**

**Erik: It's a bloody intro course; there isn't even a lab requirement!**

**…I'm more of a right brain…**

**Erik: …I give up**

**Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Please review, just do not steal or sue! I just paid for my textbooks, believe me it would be a waste…**

**Erik: Chapter Twenty-six**

'I hate trains.' Erik decided. He considered himself a worldly man. He had been almost everywhere in the world starting from when he was only nine years old. His journeys had taken him many miles, all by either horseback or boat. The train a very recent invention of transport was something very new to Erik, something new he was growing less and less fond of. The last time he had been this uncomfortable was when Nadir first retrieved him from Russia. The man had first insisted on putting him on a tiny cargo boat. After reaching the first port, Erik unloaded his horses, and gave the Daroga little choice of following him.

The memories of that small floating tea bag were not helping Erik either. The constant reminding of how cramped the boat had been, along with Mia and his shared compartment was beginning to make him slightly claustrophobic. This led to the memories of his early years in that cage. The thought of that cage brought him even more unease. He could feel his heart racing; he was beginning to lose himself in memories he hoped to lock away. He was going snap and he knew it. Soon, very soon…

"Erik?"

The said phantom paused in his panic to see Mia staring at him, eyes full of concern. "Are you alright? You're shaking!" She noticed alarmed. Putting down her sketchpad, Mia came to sit next to Erik, from her seat across from him.

"I am fine." Erik answered, as Mia began running her hand along his arm. "I was just thinking…"

"Of what? Touching live wiring?"

Erik tried to laugh. "I guess I am not as fond as trains as I thought I would be…Three days of this, it is getting the better of my nerves…"

"Do not worry, we are almost out of Belgium then we just-"

"Through Prussia until we get to Poland were I might add we must switch trains."

Mia frowned turning Erik's chin to face her, she slowly lifted up the bottom of his mask before putting a small kiss on his lips.

"I am sorry for worrying you." Erik apologized as Mia leaned into his chest. "I am just more use to seeing everything slowly when I travel. How were you even sketching with everything moving by so fast?"

The artist smiled, returning to her seat, to show Erik that her sketching was of him. "You were sitting perfectly still until you started shaking." Mia smiled beginning to pick up were she left off.

"You were saying earlier, about your travels? You must have traveled by land then didn't you?"

"Yes." Erik replied watching how intently, yet carefully her fingers moved with the charcoal. The bumps and motion of the train could not disrupt her gifted digits.

"I have laid my eyes on some of the finest structures in the world Mia. I would ride all day searching for the next creation. When I found the old structures one by one I would sketch from dawn's light until dusk's final rays."

"I have to admit I am almost jealous. As close as I am to you in years, you have seen many things that I have only dreamed of seeing." Mia admitted, adding in her final shading.

"It was not always a joyful ride, my dear. In between I traveled with the fairs…not the most respectable work." The magician sighed, bits of memories pinching in his throat.

"Such a waste. Your talent and your genies used to please greedy towns people and travelers. All who judged you…" Mia trailed off, not speaking the rest of her thoughts. Erik already knew the rest.

"Because of this face…"

"A face that has nothing to do with who you are inside." Mia spoke up, flipping to a previous sketch the Jewish woman handed Erik his unknown portrait.

"This is not who you are. It is just an outside appearance, a shell to house a beautiful soul."

Erik's bone thin fingers ran across the sketch lines that made up his cursed face. He recalled the night of their first meeting when he asked if she would ever dare sketch what was under his mask. Now she had. "When?"

"…The night after you told me about Christine…After you finally fell asleep that is…" Mia blushed.

Erik could tell the portrait had been sketched while he slept; his closed eyes not to mention the familiar headboard were proof enough. "I had good reason to be up so long…I have many years of catching up to do with passion. I do assume though, my dear, that you enjoyed yourself as well?"

"You know the answer to that!" Mia laughed, coming to sit next to Erik again. Kissing his neck gently, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I know. I just want to make sure you know how much you mean to me?"

"Oh, just as much as you mean to me, I'm sure." Mia smiled, handing Erik the charcoal stick, giving him a chance to sketch out any remaining frustration from the travel.

Mia was half way to slumber when a disturbing thought caused her eyes to open.

"Do you think he'll be alright? Ayesha can be rather aggressive with strangers. You told me that yourself."

"Mia, I do not think Brian will be in any danger. I think he will adjust to my home soon enough. My little lady can be a gracious hostess if she cares to."

"…I was not worried about Brian."

'Damn you Erik! I can not believe I even agreed to this!' Nadir cursed, standing in the doorway of the house on the lake. Ayesha stood in his way of entering the house any further. Her tail was fluffed out as she continued to growl and hiss. The Shah of Persia's collar sparkling from her purebred neck only reminded Nadir of whom the cat truly belonged to. Like master like cat, and Erik did not like intruders interrupting his privacy.

As the Siamese stood her ground and continued to stare, The Daroga noticed Mia's tabby was tucked under a chair for dear life. The gold eyes seemed to plea for an escape. 'Help me!' he seemed to cry out.

Deciding to take a bold step forward Nadir prayed that there were some bandages back at his flat. He was just trying to be nice to his friend by offering him any help he could. The last thing he expected was to be the one to take care of two mad felines. He really did after all these years still hate cats!

**How did you like? Kind of short I know, but I promise the next one will be longer! I do sort of have almost a four-day weekend so maybe I'll make another update this week. I want to get Erik and Mia to Moscow as soon as possible. Probably next chapter, I do not care to right about almost a two-week train ride! Thank you so much for the reviews! I encourage more because they encourage me! Please remember the disclaimer from above! Have a nice weekend!**

**Erik: Please review.**


	27. Arrival

**Hello everyone! Sorry I did not update as I promised I've been a little under the weather since then.**

**Erik: That's an understatement.**

**Shhh! I just wanted to thank those who were kind enough to review! It means so much and helps the next chapters come faster knowing that there are people out there who are waiting to read on! Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Do not steal or sue!**

**Erik: Why, you just got your paycheck?**

**…You're right I don't need that food on the table, or those silly textbooks!**

**Erik:…Chapter twenty-seven**

"We're not going to make it there by sunset are we?" Mia asked.

"I believe we'll make it there on time." Erik stated, his long brimmed had pulled down as far as it would go. After arriving in Moscow, the two had found transportation, much to Erik's dismay, on the back of a farm cart. The slow maddening pace of the horse enduring the weight of the two visitor's, the cart, and fat driver were giving Erik a new definition of uncomfortable. 'At least it's better than the train' the masked man reasoned.

"Ms. I am afraid I can only take you a little past the city. I need to get back soon." The farmer said trying not to look back at the two passengers. The first time he had, that man in the mask had given him a look that would have brought the devil to his knees.

"That is quite fine Sir. My home is less than a mile from outside the city…I just hope we make it there before sunset." Mia sighed.

"My dear," Erik began. "If you are worried about wondering around after dark…" The phantom paused; he didn't feel the need to bring up the Punjab lasso in his cloak.

"No! That's not the reason at all! It's just a house rule you might say." The Russian smiled. "From childhood I was taught to be home by sunset. At sunset Papa would be home and my mother would have dinner ready. As I grew older and started designing the sets for the opera house here in Russia, I would never be home on time. I would end up waiting until everyone was asleep before sneaking in. Silly thing is it not?"

"No." Erik shook his head. "It's not. You do not reach a certain age were you stop following the rules set in your parent's home."

Feeling the cart stop Erik threw his bag over his shoulder before stepping down from the cart to help Mia.

"Thank you very much sir!" Mia waved, before leading the French man in the right direction. "It's this way." Mia gestured with her bag, before Erik took it from her.

"Such chivalry!" Mia over praised. "You flatter me very much Monsieur!"

"My pleasure, Mademoiselle." Erik bowed his head. "Forgive me for not taking your hand but mine are rather full at the moment. I hope you will not find it improper!"

"Erik, I can carry my own bag." Mia stopped receiving a look from her overloaded escort. "Or not. Besides it would not be proper for you to take my hand anyway, seeing as I am the on leading you! Ha!"

"Back to 'Ha' again are we?"

"Yes." Mia smiled, falling in step with her lover.

"My dear, tell me of your family once more?"

"Do not worry about knowing them all, before you can put a name to a face." Mia soothed.

"I would feel much better, if I knew what is ahead of me." Erik sighed eyes burning holes into the ground. He was beginning to have a few regrets.

"My mother Nitsee, My father Bernard, My older sister Alexandra, her husband Demetree, they have two daughters Lena and Hali, a new born son mother did not tell me his name, my younger sister Nette, my younger brother Peter, and Baba." Mia listed.

"What is your grandmother's name?" Erik asked.

"Oh, just call her Baba." Mia shrugged.

"I can not do that! She is not my Baba!" Erik hissed.

"No, but she'll insist you call her Baba anyway."

"Mia, please her name."

"…Just a minute." Mia paused. "…I don't…know."

Erik stopped walking. "You don't know?"

"…No." Mia admitted.

"How could you not know?" Erik stared.

"I was not brought up to call her by her name! Did you know your grandmother's name?"

"…I never met my grandmother."

"Erik-I- I apologize!" Mia stuttered staring at the gold pools behind the white mask.

"…Her name was Claudia, I believe."

"Beautiful." Mia whispered. The few people she knew from Erik's family all seemed to have beautiful names Claudia, Madeleine, and Erik.

The French man continued to stare at the ground until he felt a familiar weight press against his chest. Looking down at the long locks of dark hair, Erik let go of his bag to stroke the silk like threads.

"Forgive me." Erik sighed. "I was being impatient."

"…No, I put you in a spot with coming here. You really should not have come just for my sake." Mia felt the leather-clad fingers tilt her chin up.

"My dear, I choose to come her by my own free will. It is my pleasure."

Mia smiled and picked up the dropped bag. "If you can say that by tonight after one meal together…it will be a miracle. We're almost there."

As they resumed walking Erik caught sight of the building Mia called home. After first laying eyes on structure the architect was amazed that Mia's designs for a home had been created at all. The two stories of wooden planks nailed directly onto each other would have made Erik's nose crinkle, if he had one. A few feet away in equally disgusting wood planks stood an equally inbuilt barn.

"What poor creatures live in there?"

"A cow, and a horse my father carts everyday to take him to his shop."

It had surprised Erik greatly, that a simple mother and butcher could produce a child with talent beyond either parent's knowledge.

"This is it." Mia gestured, once arriving at the front door. Pausing to smooth over her skirts the Jewish woman paused before giving any sign of announcing their presence.

"Perhaps if we turn back now, we could make it back to the train station before sunset?"

Mia turned to look at Erik wide-eyed.

"A joke, I assure you my dear."

"Is it wrong then, that I was actually considering the idea." Taking a breath, Mia raised a gentle fist on the door to knock.

From inside the house, the laughter of small children could be heard. Laughter, Erik assumed belonged Mia's nieces. Expecting the girls to answer the door, the guest was surprised when a much older woman opened it. Her face was careworn and framed by wisps of her long gray hair. The woman was a few inches shorter than Mia, causing the artist to lean forward with her greeting.

"Baba. It's so good to see you!" Mia embraced giving her a small squeeze before pulling away.

"It's good to see you too." The old woman smiled, patting Mia's cheek with affection.

"…Who are you?"

"…It's Mia, Baba…Your granddaughter, remember?"

"It was not being serious Mia-la!" The old woman laughed. "Pretending to be mashugina drives your mother up the wall! I was just having some fun, may I ask who this is?"

"Baba, this is someone very dear to me." Mia smiled, placing her hand on her lover's arm. "This is Erik."

The introduced man carefully, without much contact, took the withered woman's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you madam."

"Enchante Monsieur." She replied in near perfect French. "You can just call me Baba."

It was perhaps one of the few times in his life Erik felt speechless. He did not know if he should reply or decline to her informal hospitality. Before he knew it Mia and he both had been ushered in when a new voice asked them to leave their bags at the door.

"We can worry about sleeping arrangements when the time comes."

After hearing that voice Erik knew immediately who the owner was.

"Hello mother." Mia greeted. "You are looking well."

"Mia-la." Nitsee greeted, hugging her daughter. Although from a distance the hug would seem affectionate Erik could tell by the tense body language the gesture was as formal for the two as a handshake.

"Perhaps you would care to introduce your gentleman friend- I assume?"

"Yes," Mia pulled back, "Mother, this is someone very dear to me, Mother this is Erik."

"A pleasure to meet you Madam." Erik bowed his head.

"The pleasure is mine. Erik? Nitsee is fine."

Erik could feel his fingers twitch in anxiety as those eyes, just as brown as Mia's, continued to run over him head to foot. Though he knew she was observing him, taking him in, he did not once feel her eyes stay on his mask longer than they did the rest of his body.

"Mama." Nitsee turned to her mother. "Please help our guest feel welcome. Mia-la, would it be too much to ask you for a little help in the kitchen before your father and brothers get back."

"No…I suppose not." Mia paused, casting a glance at Erik. In all truth she felt better leaving him alone with her grandmother than in a group with her mother.

"If you'll excuse us then." The middle-aged woman smiled, taking Mia along with her into the kitchen.

Feeling a faint tugging at his sleeve, Erik looked down to see the old Baba looking up at him. "Please sit down and make yourself at home. I'll read your palm, it's a hobby."

Erik allowed the old woman to led him into the sitting area, when he heard the argument being held in the other room.

"Mother what is wrong with you!"

"What is wrong with me Mia? What is wrong with you? I think it is wonderful you brought someone 'very dear to you' home, but why this stick!"

"Mother! Be quiet! What are you even talking about?"

"What am I talking about? That man out there I can see, I have two eyes Mia! He's not Jewish!"

**Fooled you with that last line didn't I? Sad but true, a Jewish mother would be fine if her son in law was the phantom of the opera…as long as he was Jewish. Please remember the disclaimer from above. Thank you so much for the reviews guys, please keep them coming! They help me so much! Now I fear I must say till next chapter.**

**Erik: Nyquil is kicking in?**

**Oh yeah…getting dizzy…**

**Erik: Please review so she'll have something to look forward to when she wakes up from her green coma of insanity.**

**Hi Mr. Ukki!**

**Erik: Dear God she's talking to the plant again…**


	28. Introductions of the most unusual matter

**I'm back! We are so close to 200 reviews! I could die of shock!**

**Erik: You say that, but you don't mean it…**

**No way, the story wouldn't get done! I would like to think all of you for your continuous reviews and support! Thank you! Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Thank you all so much!**

**Chapter twenty-eight**

Erik could not help but continue to stare at the kitchen door. He was not Jewish. This one reason had been the main concern Mia's mother had held. A masked stranger had shown up with her middle daughter. A complete stranger from another country, that's relationship to the daughter, was unknown. Yet the mother's main concern had been Erik's religious background? All she cared about was that he, the 'stick', was in fact a gentile!

'I truly did misjudge how this visit was going to turn out.' Erik realized.

"Just ignore those two, my daughter will get over it!" The old woman waved off. "Now, let me see your palm."

Before Erik could get a word in, the glove of his left hand had been pulled off. "Your hand is freezing…Good thing you got in before sunset. Your French blood might have frozen."

Mia was grateful that Erik was not in the room to witness this. She knew she looked horrid. The artist had been forced to resume her normal posture that she used around her mother. The narrowed eyes glared into the equally brown depths of her own mother's. Her back remained tense as Mia drummed her fingers across her hips, were her hands rested, waiting for the next assault.

"This has to be the biggest mistake you have made besides leaving Russia." The middle aged woman sighed.

"Mother! How can you say that! You do not even know him!"

"I know he's not Jewish. No man that thin or that tall can be a Jew."

"How long has this been going on Mother?" Mia demanded. "How long have you been judging people by their physical appearance? This is a new thing. Besides what does religion matter? Grandfather was a gentile!"

"That's your problem Mia-la. You are too much like your Baba." Nitsee sighed.

"You are ashamed of your mother!" Mia accused.

"I am not!"

"Then you are ashamed of me." Mia whispered. "Then I shall leave. I will not subject Erik or myself to your traditional narrow-minded beliefs. Goodbye mother."

"Wait!"

The designer turned back around to face the woman.

"…Don't leave again." Nitsee said taking a deep breath. "You just got here. I don't know who this man is…so I will try not to judge him…until I can speak with him a little longer…So if you would help me with dinner now."

"Apology accepted." Mia sighed. That was the closest her mother would ever get to the words 'I apologize.'

"So. Why is he wearing that mask?" Nitsee asked beginning to chop up the vegetables for the stu.

"It's his matter." Mia replied casually. "His face. So do not give him any questions or grief…and that goes for everyone in this house."

"Alright, alright…."

"You've traveled a lot I can tell."

The withered hands continued to trace the long lines on Erik's hand. The short nails occasionally tracing the fainter creases. The magician was truly impressed that a woman who seemed old and simple could posses the knowledge of a skill Erik had learned from a true gypsy fortuneteller as a boy.

"That is correct."

"But these two lines. These are what I find interesting." The Baba smiled gesturing to the lines around Erik's smallest finger. "This short line right here, is faded. Something that seemed good in mind did not work out as planned. This line means nothing for you now. It is all in the past. This line, long and deeper, it is a road. A road that has many good things before you…Or they could simply be wrinkles. Do you hold your pinky under when you play the violin?"

The warm feeling of clarity quickly faded from Erik's mind and was replaced with a substitute resembling a bucket of cold water. "I beg your pardon?"

The sound of the floorboards being trampled over only echoed Erik's question. Eyes catching the stairs all Erik could make out were two young girls toppling over each other trying to be the first one to make it to the bottom floor.

The tallest one landed on all fours before picking herself up in a mess of hair and skirts. "Baba! Hali keeps repeating everything I say!" The taller girl pouted pointing a finger at the smaller girl who had just finished climbing down the last step.

"Baba! Hali keeps repeating everything I say!" The youngest smiled.

"Stop it! Can't you say something else?"

"Stop it! Can't you say something…who are you?"

The sight of the two girls hawk wide eyes was almost comical to Erik. The youth of a child was something he envied. The age when a simple visit from a stranger could make you forget any recent event that upset you.

"Erik." The grandmother gestured. "My great-grandchildren, Mia's nieces, Lena and Hali. Girls this is Erik a friend to your Aunt Mia. He is here all the way from France."

"It's very nice to meet you." Lena smiled giving her best curtsy.

"It's very nice to meet you." Hali mimicked.

Erik nodded his head to the two girls. He could not remember the last time he had interacted with children this young. The last time could have possibly been when he was around Jules' home. The times before would have found children of this age cleaning to their mother's skirts as he unmasked himself in front of an audience for money.

"Your from France?" Lena smiled. "Baba use to live there didn't you Baba?"

"Didn't you Baba?"

"Yes, for a time…That was a long time ago." The old woman remembered. "I was probably close to Mia's age…"

"Sir, did Aunt Mia come here with you?"

"With you?"

"Yes." Erik stared still not use to dealing with such a young audience. "I believe she's in the kitchen…"

Erik continued to stare watching the two youths take off before he could finish the last word of his sentence. A moment later Mia was being dragged out of the kitchen by her skirts.

"Ta-da!" Lena smiled pointing to Erik.

"Ta-da!"

"We found your friend!"

"Friend!"

"I can see that." Mia laughed. "I hope you girls haven't been torturing Erik."

"No!" Lena smiled. "We just met!"

"Just met!"

"I'm glad." Mia said smiling at Erik. "Erik, I don't know if you can believe this, but-" Mia bent down till she was at eye level with her nieces. "These little ladies have grown up so much during my time in Paris."

"I've grown the most!" Hali boasted standing on her toes.

"I can see that!" Mia gasped giving her niece her full attention. "You two look more and more like your mother everyday."

"Papa thinks so too."

"Were is your Mommy?" Mia asked.

"Upstairs with the new baby." Hali pointed. "You haven't seen him yet! He's bald and smelly!"

"That's not very nice." Mia said pretending to scold her. "After all that is how you were when you were just an infant."

"I was not!"

"Yes you were!" Lena teased. "I remember! Aunt Mia's right."

"No she's not!"

"Yes she is. Aunt Mia's always right."

"Lena always was my favorite." Mia whispered to Erik who just shook his head.

"I'm surprised at you, lying to a mere child."

Mia gently elbowed him.

"You two look funny together." Hali suddenly observed.

"Mr. Erik looks really different from you."

Erik stood frozen. His first instinct was snap at the child, but he had been feeling quite uneasy for a while and remained silent. Mia's response on the other hand was the complete opposite.

"Oh, how are we different?" She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He so much taller!"

"He's probably taller than Papa!"

"Taller than Grandpa!"

The day went on to be one surprise after another. Erik was beginning to wonder if this was all some sort of dream. He had not checked, but he knew he was wearing his mask. Had Mia's entire family been born with some sort of trait? A strange sort of heredity perhaps that allowed her family to remain oblivious to the obvious shield on his face? As strange as the day seemed to be going, nothing in the universe could have prepared Erik for that night's events that were about to occur.

**Yeah! Cliffy…kind of. I hope you phans enjoyed this chapter. I also hope you will keep reading for next chapter when the rest of Mia's family returns for a dinner that Erik will never forget.**

**Erik: For those about to die of curiosity, so few of you, I'll give you a clue. If you have ever tried to compare fine French wine with black berry garbage you will know what to expect.**

**Your giving away only a little bit. That is only a minor event! Thank so much for all the reviews! Please remember the disclaimer from above and have a lovely weekend. Please read and review! We're almost at 200!**

**Erik: Anyone stealing or suing will face death by the Punjab lasso**


	29. The Dinner

**Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to Amanda, happy birthday to me!**

**Erik: Cheer up; you're a year closer to death.**

**Well if that isn't comforting…Thank you so much for the reviews! We passed 200! I cannot believe this story has come this far, and still has more to come. **

**Erik: Will this madness never end?**

**Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Please review after reading!**

**Erik: It _is _the woman's birthday…**

**Chapter twenty-nine**

Erik could not sleep. True he had very rarely in his life found quick departure into the land of bloody nightmares. However, after his relations with Mia continued to progress, Erik had been growing accustomed to a more human sleep schedule. "Hell, I slept better on the bloody train…" The phantom muttered lying on the poor excuse for a cot, which he had been given to sleep on.

Dinner with Mia's family had been something Erik was convinced he could never have been prepared for even in his wildest dreams…

It did not take too long for the rest of Mia's family to arrive. For a good five minutes all Erik did was listen to the two girls compare Erik to the rest of the men in their family. He was, apparently, very different. As if on some Jewish schedule the men of the household came in right at sunset.

Mia's father, Bernard, looked like any other Russian man you passed on the frozen streets. Dark hair that was slightly graying, to match his over grown beard and eyes that Mia had no doubt inherited. 'Almost all Russians have dark eyes though.' Erik remembered, feeling slightly out of place with his cat yellow orbs.

The brother-in-law, Demetree, would in time resemble his father-in-law. He was taller and leaner but would eventually round out thus was the nature in their chosen life. Erik did feel slightly guilty judging these people by first glance, especially for what they must have been thinking after gazing upon him! However, knowing what lay behind his mask Erik felt he had a small right to look on normal men with vague judgment.

Peter, Mia's brother, however immediately caught Erik's interest. The way he carried himself, tall and with pride that screamed for attention, caused Erik's lip to twitch up ever so slightly. Peter's very presence seemed to somehow set him aside from his blood, much as Mia herself did. That almost over prideful arrogance reminded Erik vaguely of that De Changy boy…they were around the same age.

"Who are you?" And they had the same curiosity.

"It is very nice to see you again too Peter!" Mia said, her tone scolding.

"Forgive me, my favorite sister! I was so taken by the surprise of your arrival that my manners flew right out the window." The young man apologized meeting his sister to embrace her.

"Mia-la! So good to see you again, Peter out of the way!" The older man pushed bringing his middle daughter into a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm very good Papa. Good to see Mother has not drove you into an institution while I was away."

"Not yet…Are you eating enough…You have enough money to I mean…"

"I am fine, and am doing quite well." Mia smiled.

"Good…Then lets eat!"

"Papa, Demetree, Peter I would like you all to meet a very dear friend of mine. This is Erik."

"A pleasure." Erik stated simply, stepping slightly closer to Mia as the room crowded.

"We can talk more as we sit down." Nitsee stated, coming out of the small kitchen. "Lena, Hali? Would you two be angels and go get your mother, and tell her we're about to have dinner?"

"Yes!" The two girls replied in unison detaching themselves from their father to run back upstairs.

"Now Erik." Nitsee started. "Why don't you sit between Mia and-"

"Baba!" Mia interrupted, leading her lover towards the long wooden table. "You two have gotten rather acquainted haven't you?"

"Yes, quite." Erik played along, silently grateful for not having to sit next to Mia's mother yet.

Chairs were moved, places were taken, and Erik silently watched Mia's grandmother recited the Shabbat prayer. It was when the stu was being served that Erik took the time to look around the table. Mia's elder sister, Alexandra, had come down to introduce herself to Erik, but quickly went back upstairs when her newborn began to cry. That left one person a stranger.

"Erik? Is there something wrong, you're not eating." Bernard observed.

"Oh, no!" Erik shook his head. "I see were Mia gets her talent in the kitchen, Madam." Erik charmed, nodding his head in Nitsee's direction. "I was just wondering though, I thought Mia also had a younger sister?"

"Nette is having supper with Joshua Valash and his family. You remember him, don't you Mia-la?" Nitsee raised her eyebrow.

"…The shoe-maker's son? Yes."

"He asked me about you not to long ago…" Mia's mother trailed off.

"…I find that odd…I have not really conversed much with him since I was twelve." Mia stated.

"…Well…maybe he was curious."

"Let him be curious with Nette. She is the one having supper with him, is she not?" Mia stared.

"Monsieur Erik?" Peter asked almost instantly. "What is it that you do in France?"

"I beg your pardon?" Erik clarified; too engrossed in the women's assaults to notice he was being called.

"I'm-um-changing the subject." Peter whispered. "What is it you do in Paris?"

"Ah-I…_do_…a lot of things." Erik answered.

"I bet." Nitsee mumbled.

"Among my various hobbies." The phantom continued unfazed. "I have done work from contracting, architecture, and other things that fall under the category of the arts. I was also one of the original contractors that built the Garnier Opera House, were Mia is now employed."

"Quite a few accomplishments." Bernard nodded. "It all sounds very impressive, what is it you do now?"

"I have…influence…at the Opera."

"Influence?" Peter asked.

"…I assist the managers with almost all the theatre's needs…They really would be lost without me."

"It may interest you to know this as well Peter. Erik is also a very talented musician and composer." Mia smiled pouring some wine into Erik's glass.

"Really?" The boy brightened. "What types of music do you compose sir?"

"All sorts…I have once piece I worked on for over twenty years."

"…For a piece that took you so long to work on, hopefully it won't take you as long to sell it." Nitsee said, taking a sip of her wine.

"…I do not think I shall ever sell it…It would be to overpowering for any sort of audience."

Erik's fist clenched as the woman laughed. "I hardly see how music could be overpowering."

"Of course it can be Mother!" Peter interrupted. "It just has to be played by the right person!" The boy insisted.

"Peter, you're too much like your sister. Getting all swept up those mashugina dreams. Nesh get! You have a future here with your family. You wouldn't run off and follow her example."

"At least Mia had the courage to break away from your narrow minded tradition and do something that meant a great deal to her."

"That tradition, young man, has kept food in your stomach and a roof over your head since the day you were born. Might I add that it will continue to do so, when you take over the shop as soon as your father retires."

"I have no such intentions…Excuse me." Peter mumbled, making his way outside.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Mia broke the silence.

"Please excuse me." The artist whispered, standing up.

Erik rose as well, and remained standing until Mia left the room to venture outside.

"Why are you standing?" Bernard inquired. "She can go outside alone, she's a strong girl! Have a seat and finish your meal."

Erik sighed as he sat back down. Chivalry was not dead; it just had not migrated as far east as Moscow.

After much debate about sleeping arrangements Erik found himself in Mia's old room, while she was, deliberately, placed down stairs to share Nette's room. He continued to lie on the old cot fully clothed with mask in place. He always removed his mask when he slept, but he was slightly afraid that Mia's curious nieces might venture a midnight peek.

He continued to lie on top of the wool blankets debating about the possibilities between scaring two innocent girls and suffocation. As he decided to take off the mask and sleep away from the door, he heard footsteps approaching his room.

Quickly sliding the mask back, Erik waited patiently and he watched the doorknob slowly turn…It was Mia.

The artist crept into the room wearing only her nightshift. Giving Erik a small smile she closed the door softly behind her, before coming to lie next to him on the small bed.

"Have you been scared for life yet, darling?"

"Yes, but not before tonight…May I inquire as to how your brother is?" Erik asked, fingers absently playing with Mia's dark hair.

"Stubborn as always…but Mother is more stubborn than he and I put together."

"You did not tell me he was musical."

"You did not tell me you knew he was." Mia's eyes stared into his full of curiosity.

"It was not that hard to figure out. Artistic tendencies do tend to skip a generation, my dear. It did from your grandmother to you. It skipped your mother and sister obviously…and went directly to Peter."

"Such a wise observation." Mia mumbled, wrapping her arm around Erik's torso.

"I do not think your mother would approve of you sleeping here with me…" Erik teased.

"…Mother can go to Hell." Mia whispered, removing the mask to kiss Erik fully on his lips.

**Yea! Okay that dinner scene really did have a mind of its own…I changed a lot of things I planned on doing…So you guys will have to let me know what you think! Please remember the disclaimer from above. Do not steal, and do not sue!**

**Erik/Swings Punjab Lasso/ And please review.**

**It's my birthday!**


	30. The boy who made flowers sing

**So many reviews! Thank you to all the readers, you have no idea how honored I am that so many of you enjoy reading my story! Just please remember that I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot. Do not steal do not sue!**

**Erik: The author would also like to thank all of you for wishing her a happy birthday. Congratulations, you are now nineteen years closer to death…**

**…I'm touched really…**

**Chapter thirty**

The mid-morning sun's rays peered gently through the glass window causing Erik to stir. Blinking his sunken eyes his arm felt around the bed for the other person Erik was becoming accustomed to waking up with. When his arm met the other side of the cold small mattress Erik remembered were he was. He was not in his home, in the Louise-Phillip room with Mia. He was in Russia, on a small cramped cot, alone.

Grabbing his mask, and getting dressed Erik headed downstairs. He was slightly surprised to see that the crowded dining table from last night was now almost deserted. All that remained at the table were Mia, her mother, her grandmother, and Alexandra. As Erik stepped off the stairs he noticed that Alexandra was cradling her newborn close to her bosom.

Once the woman noticed the Frenchman in the room, they paused in their conversation to greet him.

"Good morning Erik. Did you sleep well?" Mia smiled

"Yes, thank you. May I assume the same for you?"

"…Yes you may." Mia smiled, turning her attention back to her tea to hide her blushing cheeks.

"You must have slept well. It is almost noon." Nitsee stared, eyebrows raised at the masked man.

"Mother. Erik has not traveled in a long time. He needed to sleep it off."

"I use to have that problem when I traveled." The old Baba smiled. "I was so disheveled, there were no trains back then. I had to walk, or journey by boat."

"We know Baba." Alexandra and Mia chorused.

"Of course you do, I just don't want you to forget." The old woman huffed, sipping her tea.

"Erik, I assume you would like a little breakfast." Nitsee stated rising from her seat.

"Just tea would be fine, Madam." Erik stared.

"No wonder you're so thin…I should warn you though, we do not serve that English drake in this house."

"Mother!" Mia snapped. "Erik is French, not English. Just because someone is born outside of Russia does not mean they do not drink Russian tea!"

"It's alright Mia." Erik calmed. "Madam, I assure you. I spent a few years in this country and am very much found of its traditional tea with lemon."

Watching the woman walk into the kitchen, Erik sat in the vacant seat closest to Mia.

"Monsieur Erik?" Alexandra smiled, reaching over to extend one hand, while her free arm held the child. "I would like to apologize for my short introduction. I'm afraid my baby is still getting over a little colic."

"There is no need for apology Madam. If I may inquire, how is the child coming around?"

"He still cries I'm afraid, more than his sisters did…It tends to get worse in the evening and nights."

"Alexandra." Baba interrupted. "I told you child, boil up a little bit of lavender leaves. Keep the baby near the steam. He will calm down and go off to sleep. It's an old cure…Boil lavender and…what was the other herb…"

"Valerian." Erik answered, as Mia's mother brought him his tea of tea. "Thank you, Madam."

"I beg your pardon Erik?" Mia asked.

"Valerian. My dear. It is an herb that will cause the infant to become drowsy, without the drugging effects of Laundum." Erik finished sipping the hot liquid with lemon.

"That's it!" The old Baba smiled. "Valerian…it is an old…gypsy cure." She smiled, giving a quick glance in the masked man's direction. Erik paused in mid-sip catching the look. He suddenly had a very nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Careful girls our you'll spill the milk!" A voice called from the door interrupting Erik's ill feelings.

"We'll be careful Aunt Nette!" The two younger voices chorused.

Lena and Hali quickly made their way through the dining area towards the kitchen, a tin bucket the only distance between them.

"Good morning Mr. Erik!" The two girls chorused running into the kitchen, the milk in the bucket sloshing slightly over the top.

"Girls!" Alexandra called. "Please be careful not to spill…Mia, would you take him?" Alexandra asked, handing Mia her nephew as she went to check on her daughters.

Mia adjusted the infant in her arms, just as a slightly younger woman appeared in the room.

"Erik, I would like for you to meet my youngest sister; Nette."

"A pleasure Mademoiselle." Erik greeted bowing his head.

"…I beg your pardon, Sir, but unlike my siblings I had no desire to learn French."

"I am terribly sorry, Miss. After meeting your family, I carelessly assumed that all of them were acquainted with my born language. I apologize."

"Sorry, we are not."

"Nette." Mia spoke a tone of anger in her voice. "Even though you never cared to learn French from Baba, I assume that you would have picked up on a tiny word such as a form of addressing a unmarried lady."

"Well, I did not Mia. In fact neither Peter nor Alexandra are fluent. Just you in Baba."

"True you are, sister. However, in both French and Russian it is still custom to introduce yourself politely to one another."

Nette brushed some imaginary dust off her dress before looking at Erik.

"Very nice to meet you Mr. Erik. It is a shame Mia did not tell us of you sooner. I introduced Joshua to mother the day after he invited me to supper."

"Mother already knew Joshua…She does wear shoes." Mia glared.

"But she does not wear a mask…so I assume that is the reason why we have not met Mr. Erik before?"

"Mother…" Mia whispered her tone cool. "Would you hold little Isaac? I wish to speak to my sister…" The artist announced, handing the baby to his grandmother.

"…Out of the ear reach of children." Mia added, grabbing her sibling by the wrist and leading her upstairs.

Silence filled the room, and all Erik could manage to do was stare into his teacup. He was about to read the leaves, when the old woman called his name.

"Erik…the more I look at little Isaac it makes me remember how long it has been since I have seen Valerian. I am not sure I would know how to pick out a good root…There is a wise woman in the village market…Would you mind escorting an old lady to town to pick out a decent herb?"

"I-" Erik paused. 'How can I say no to her.' "It would be my pleasure." The French man answered surprised that she immediately stood up and made for the door.

"Come along now. The men will be home from the shop before sundown. We should be back in time for dinner."

Erik nodded following the woman towards the door. "I should inform Mia, that I am departing."

"Nitsee can do that." The old woman insisted. Handing the tall man his cloak and hat, she gently ushered him outside into the snow.

Pulling the door shut the old woman turned to Erik. "The lion's den is dangerous enough to enter, but to enter the lioness cave is suicide young man."

"I am not an young man, Madam." Erik smiled.

"To me you will always be…" The woman smirked. "…Always such a young boy…"

"I beg your pardon?" Erik stared.

"…Nothing…we should be off." She reminded as they began walking.

Erik continued to trench forth the snow and dead grass crunching under his boots.

"Am I to believe Madam, that you once visited France?"

"Yes. I was around Mia's age. My parents forbid me at first to travel to such a place so far away alone…perhaps that is part of the reason why I went. I learned the language and very much enjoyed Pairs…My daughter does not like to mention it, but that is were I met Mia's grandfather."

"I see." Erik wanted to laugh at the family resemblance. Such traits really did skip a generation. "Madam if I may-"

"Erik, please call me Baba."

"…Baba." Erik tried the word feeling strange on his tongue. "If I may inquire, when you read my palm…you mentioned the indentation on my littlest finger could be due to years of playing the violin."

"Yes."

"…If I may ask. How did you know I was a violinist?"

The old woman smiled, looking Erik right in the eye. "I shall never forget the day I saw that young boy play the violin. It is not something I would forget Erik. That night at the fair grounds I watched a young boy make flowers sing."

**As my late birthday gift, I get to give you all a cliffhanger! **

**Erik: A lovely choice of party favors.**

**Thank you. Yes, this story is Kay based, so the part of the singing flowers is something readers of her book would understand. Good news, her book has been reprinted! If you would like to see what happens next, or call me evil for leaving you a cliffy, (I actually enjoy torturing my readers to some extent, it makes the plot more interesting) you will have to leave a review! Thank you so much for all those who already have, and please keep them coming! Please remember the disclaimer from above. Do not steal, and do not sue!**

**Erik: Thank you and please review!**


	31. Confused by affection

**More reviews! Thank you all so much! You phans rock! I just wanted to let everyone know that these chapters would not happen without the support of you guys. I will be forever grateful!**

**Erik: You make it sound like this is the last chapter…**

**Oh no! It's not! Not over yet! That would be wrong. You don't think I would leave Erik in Russia would you? A reminder that I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Do not flame, do not sue!**

**Chapter thirty-one**

'_My life has been nothing but horror even before the day I was born. Inside my mother's womb for nine months I festered, slowly developing this cursed face, while God turned a blind eye. As a boy of only nine years old I was forced to show my cursed self in front of strangers for greed and wealth, wealth I never was given the opportunity to spend. After leaving the Gypsy camp I began traveling on my own using my talents of music, magic, and ventriloquism. I dare say at times the crowds adored and respected me, but humans always want more. No matter how much I gave and gave they all wanted to see. _

"_Show us your face Erik!"_

"_Take off the mask and sing for us!"_

_Taunting me until I showed them what they wanted. All the beauty in my voice could not make up for their horror. It is truly a trade off my gifted talents for my cursed face. If any comfort were to come from all those years of prostituting my talents for greed it was the knowledge that it was the last time. The same people would never come back. I would never have to meet these people on the streets, within weeks I would move on to the next fair. I never believed I would meet someone of coincidence who had seen my damnable face. After all these years I should have learned to expect the unexpected.'_

Erik continued to stare at the old woman, not sure of how to respond. He never imagined this situation would fall on him. He never imagined Mia's old, half-mad; grandmother would have been one of the spectators to a gypsy freak show.

"Madam…I beg your pardon…but I can not-"

"There is nothing to pardon." The Baba waved off. "Now I told you, call me Baba." She smiled as her withered fingers gently grabbed his leather clad ones.

"Now Erik, this may be hard to imagine…but I was once a very beautiful young woman."

The magician watched her stop to run her hand across her wrinkled cheek.

"Beautiful…and just as independent as Mia. When I was a young woman. I made my way to France. It was a beautiful country. I fell in love with its language and art…I even fell in love with a man, who eventually became my husband."

"…You mentioned so." Erik nodded, taking slower steps to match the woman's pace.

"Yes…However, I was afraid. I was afraid of marriage Erik. My whole family was built on the tradition of a woman marrying a man, having his children, and doing nothing more. Through out all these years, it appears most women are facing the same fate. Can you understand how scared that made me Erik?"

He nodded; giving her the best eye contact he could while walking.

"When Peter, my late husband, asked me to marry him; he was beginning work on a new building. He was an architect you see, just like you? His project would take him a few months. I asked him if he would meet me in Russia once he was done with his work, and he agreed."

"Why Russia?" Erik inquired.

"I wished to inform my family in person, and also to give myself more time to travel. I went to Belgium, Poland, and eventually Italy. It was Italy, you see, were I first had the opportunity to see gypsies. I was drawn to their shows. I wanted to see the magical things that had been shielded from my eyes as a child. Many things I was curious about, such as palm reading and tarot cards, were from the gypsy world. You can not blame me for venturing a look?"

Shaking his head the magician replied, "How could I Mada-…Baba…I myself have always been drawn to the things I was introduced to as a child."

"…It was through those tents…that I first saw you Erik, as a child. I remember wondering why so many people were drawn to a boy. A boy so young and thin, with a mask stitched of leather covering his face…These people were mad, all coming to see a boy with a horrid title instead of a name."

"The living corpse." Erik hissed.

"…Yes. However, Erik, that little corpse…with his little violin…played music that would make God himself weep. That corpse, Erik, could perform the most amazing ventriloquism anyone had ever witnessed. I truly believed the lilies were singing…and then came the end of the performance. That horrible man…the man who kept beating you…"

"…I never wanted to take off my mask at the end of the performance…but that was our bargain." Erik remembered. "I was allowed to show my talents…as long as I unmasked myself in the end."

"I remember watching the screaming people. Some people I head making fun later that evening. It was that moment that I realized that I wanted a family. I wanted to teach my children that all of God's people are equal, no matter what they do…or what they look like. We are all equal Erik. You are equal, maybe even something more."

"…Thank you, but I'm afraid some things that you may believe are not shared with the rest of the world."

"I know…but maybe one day they can be."

"You should take assurance though…your teachings has at least passed down to your granddaughter."

"Yes…She is my favorite…Just don't tell her sisters. Oh and Erik…do not worry, this secret is safe with me, unless you choose to tell it yourself."

Erik tensed. "I appreciate that, however why would you keep something like that…I am sure if Madam Nitsee wished to find a reason for me to leave her home, she would die to hear that tale."

"I would never wish that on you Erik." The Baba said. "Besides, did you know I was once a very timid woman?"

Erik stared his eyes full of disbelief. "Really?"

"Oh yes!" The woman reassured. "When I went to the gypsy camp, I was much too afraid to go alone…I took an escort…someone who was not Mia's grandfather…A man who was…more than an escort. That Erik is a secret, like my seeing you at the gypsy camp. That is a secret I have not spoken to anyone before, and shall not."

"…I understand." Erik smiled. "A secret of yours I now know…In exchange for my own?"

"You are clever…Mia is very blessed to have met someone like you…and you are very blessed to have met her."

"Blessed…is not the word…"Erik sighed.

Mia sighed as she rubbed her slightly burning ears. _'I have barely been gone from the table very long and mother is no doubt telling Erik all about me…'_ Shaking her head to clear her mind Mia turned her attention to her sister, she had more important matters to attend to. Taking a seat on the bed next to her sibling she glared.

"I find it amazing that I left Russia on surprisingly good terms with my entire family, and have returned to find that my sister is either angry with me; or has lost her mind."

"How did you even attract a man with a mouth such as that?"

"I attracted him with my brain…you are the sibling that attracts men with your visible body parts." Mia said coolly.

"Plotz!"

"Do not wish things like that on your elder sister, Shikse."

"At least Joshua is no Schlemazle! For this Erik must be very unlucky to be with one such as you…or I wonder sister…is it you who are the Schlemazle!"

Nette stopped her assault only to caress her now swollen red cheek. "How dare you!"

"How dare you!" Mia screamed, lowering her hand. "What did I do Nette? What did I do to cause you to speak such things! …Why do you hate me?" Mia finally whispered.

"…I don't hate you." Her younger sister admitted removing her hand from her cheek. "…I'm just…angry…"

"At what?"

"Mia…I am in love Joshua." Netsee smiled cupping her hands over her heart.

"Then why are you angry?" Mia asked, already use to her sisters dramatic moods.

"Because of you Mia! Because of you, I cannot get married. I am not allowed to marry until you do. That is our house rule, it has been even before Alexandra met Demetree."

"Nette. I am sure Papa would let you marry this boy if I am not wed."

"Papa, my dear sister, is not the problem."

"Ah," Mia sighed laying back onto the mattress. "…Do you find it interesting? Men are supposed to be the heads of their households…but in our family Mother is the one who makes the biggest decisions."

Nette leaned back also next to her sister. "Yes…Father's biggest concern has always been if there was enough gravy for his dinner."

The two sisters shared a laugh.

"…I'll talk to mother for you." Mia stated.

"Really?" Nette brightened.

"Yes…I have to talk to her about Peter anyway…but you have to apologize to Erik…and mind yourself around him…You are my little sister…but you're also an adult. Act like one."

"Yes, of course…I was being terribly rude…I am sorry to you as well Mia. I didn't mean what I said."

"Neither did I." Mia brushed off rising to get off the bed.

"Mia." Nette called, standing from the bed herself. "Do you think…after you talk to mother about Joshua and I…that you might marry yourself?"

"W-what?" The artist stuttered turning around.

"Has it not come up? When would you make your decision?"

"When is not the question! If this had come up, my decision, should I be asked, would be if I would…"

"What do you mean?" Nette asked coming to stand next to her sister. "Would you marry Erik?"

"…I…I do not know."

**Yeah, I think I'll stop there. I hope you all enjoyed Baba's tale and a sisterly catfight. Thank you so much for the reviews! They help me so much! Please guys keep them coming this story is not entirely close to being finished but it's making its way there!**

**Erik: And the world took a collective sigh of a relief…**

**/Glare/ Anyway, please remember the disclaimer from above and have a great weekend!**

**Erik: Please review.**

**Plotz- Drop dead **

**Shikse- An attractive dim-witted woman**

**Schlemazle- someone who has bad luck, is very unfortunate**


	32. Concerns for happiness

**I'm back! Sorry for not updating last week, but I ended up at Megacon. I met Scott McNeil!**

**Erik/Glare/**

**Though you will always be my hero, Erik! Thank you so much for all the reviews! They help so much…To be honest things personally have been kind of shitty lately…any encouragement you guys give me, is strangely comforting to my real life…So thank you! Please remember I own nothing except for any original characters and this fiction based plot!**

**Erik: Nice to have you back…Chapter thirty-two**

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Mia sighed slowly sitting back down on the bed. "I-I don't know…"

"It's not that hard." Nette waved almost jokingly. "Do you love Erik or not?"

"Yes." Mia answered without hesitation. "Yes I do…I do love him." She whispered.

"Then you would marry him." Nette nudged. "What is their to think about?"

Mia sighed and stood up. "A lot. I love Erik; I have no problem with that. However, I still want to work. I worked hard to become a set designer…I don't want to give that up…but I still love Erik…What am I going on about? Erik has not even asked me to marry him…so…why don't we just forget this happened. I'll talk to Mother about you and Joshua." Mia smiled pushing against the door to leave.

"Oi my nose!"

"Mother!" Mia cried, pulling the door back to see her mother nursing her hit nose.

"Oi Mia-la, if you're done hurting your poor mother, you can stop gawking at me!"

"Mother…How long have you been standing there?"

Nitsee raised her eyebrow. "How long? Over sixty years! It's my house!"

"You know what I meant." Mia stared.

"Long enough to get my nose banged into. Now Mia-la if you're done having a canipse with your sister would you two help me with dinner?" The mother huffed turning to go downstairs.

"I still think we were left on the door step by gypsies…" Nette sighed, moving to follow her mother.

"That is what Mother insists on sometimes…" Mia sighed following her. "However, I think we were traded by the gypsies for a goat…"

"Then why does she keep us around if we make her into a mashugina?" Nette smiled.

"Isn't it obvious?" Mia asked walking down the stairs. "The goat's probably dead by now."

"Believe what you want girls." Nitsee lectured, as they stepped onto the first floor. "My little two and three days of agonizing labor angels."

"Not the guilt." Mia sighed, clutching her chest.

"At least Peter has it the worst. They did have to cut him out." Nette reminded.

"To bring my only son into the world they cut me open like a fish…I bled so much I almost died…but for my son it did not matter! Nothing mattered for you girls, I just wanted you here with me…now help me make dinner."

"Of course…We'll talk too…I need to speak to you about a few matters Mother. Nette, don't you have something to do?"

"Oh yes…Mother were did Mr. Erik go? I really should apologize for my behavior."

"He went with Baba into town. They went to pick out an herb from the wise woman yenta."

Mia froze in her steps. "You let Erik and Baba go into town…alone?"

Nitsee nodded.

"Are you mashugina?" Mia yelled.

"Mia Lashelm Sclar! Do you not trust your own Baba?" Nitsee demanded.

"Of course I do! I just don't trust her mouth alone with Erik!"

"Face it Mother." Nette agreed. "This could be the most uncomfortable time of Mr. Erik's life."

'_Besides making love in a coffin…"_ Mia thought. "I wonder what they're talking about…"

"…There is something I would like to know." The Baba smiled tucking the Valerian herb into her coat.

"Yes?" Erik replied continuing to walk back to the house.

"Is Mia…happy?"

"…To my knowledge she is very happy. I would do anything to make sure she stays that way." Erik spoke, his promise laced with every spoken syllable.

"I believe that…Ever since you two have arrived she is almost glowing. She seemed especially happy when she snuck into your room last night…"

Erik, who had been inhaling during that sentence, began to cough causing the old woman to chuckle. Wrapping her wrinkled fingers against his thin wrist the Baba squeezed gently. "You have nothing to be ashamed of Erik…Have you forgotten I married a French man?"

"Madam…" Erik cleared his throat.

"Oh come now! I'm not dead…I just wish to know if Mia is happy."

"Madam…" Erik was grateful for his mask as he felt his yellow flesh turning pinker every second. "…I have received no negative response as far as those matters are concerned!"

"That is fine." Baba smiled. "I see I have embarrassed you enough…I know you care for Mia…Your heart obviously has room for her…I just hope it has room for two…"

"Two Madam?" Erik asked.

"That orange sack of fur. Ever since she brought that thing home as a kitten it has not left her side. She even schlepped that feline to Paris." The grandmother laughed.

"Oh, I assure you. I am fond of felines myself. I have one too, that is very dear to me as Brain is to Mia."

"If you two are so fond of these animals…were are they now?"

"A very dear friend of mine is taking care of them…" Erik sighed, wondering how Nadir was fairing with Ayesha's temper.

"Ah…Now you say you helped build the opera house? Were did you learn architecture?"

"I was an apprenticed mason at fifteen…" Erik began.

Many miles and countries away an orange feline crept through the unfamiliar house. The feline know as Brian, now on its ninth life, decided to look for a place to sleep. Brian spied a comfortable looking sofa with soft velvet cushions and decided to rest there. On his way to the couch a Siamese pounced on his destination.

"_Mine!" _She hissed.

Brian froze at Ayesha's warning. Turning his head the tabby noticed a soft looking chair. Making for the said the furniture, the Siamese beat him again. _"Mine!" _She hissed.

Giving up Brian curled up under a table and began to yowl.

Hearing the cry, Ayesha jumped down to meet the orange feline. _"Why do you cry?"_

"_I miss my master…the one who belongs to me…"_

"_I also miss my master…he is again spending time with another female…"_

Brian sighed, _"The one who belongs to me was kind…I kept her safe and was good company…"_

"_So was I to the one who belonged to me…" _Ayesha began to yowl. _"Then another female came…I tried to keep her away, but she insisted on keeping him company…She finally left…My master cried…This dark haired female…I do not want her to hurt him the same way…I will protect him…" _Ayesha sighed curling up next to the tabby.

"_And I will protect her…" _Brain purred as the two felines drifted off to sleep.

**Just a little look at what goes on in a cat's mind. For those of you who are confused I will clarify. Cats do not belong to us. We belong to cats. We are simply guests in their homes…and it is our privilege to love and feed and pet them. In exchange they protect us and keep us company…**

**Erik: And sleep sixteen hours out of the damn day…**

**It's actually closer to twenty. Thank you for all the reviews! Please keep them coming, and remember the disclaimer from above! I tried to make this chapter a little lighter because the last few were a tad drama-y…yeah…so tell me what you think! No flames and see you next week!**

**Erik/Waves Punjab lasso/ Don't make me say it…**


	33. Something in common

**Hello phans/Does happy jig/ So close to 230! So close to 230!**

**Erik: I see spring break has made you active…**

**Of course! Thank you to all those who have reviewed, let it be known that my disclaimer from the previous chapters still stands! Also I have been getting a lot of questions about the whole GerryErik thing. I stated the description at the beginning of the story to help people who had not read the Kay version, get a better understanding…but I think all I did was confuse people. So from now on just think KayErik. For those of you who have not read Susan Kay's book use your imagination. Here's a hint full facial deformity, no nose, tall, skinny, left-handed! If you want any Gerry aspects…you can have the voice. **

**Erik: Traitor!**

**Sorry! I do not have the financial ability to see Michael Crawford himself! I can't even afford the bloody CD!**

**Erik: You'd think you were a poor college student…**

**/Glares/ I am! Thank you for the reviews, remember the disclaimer and without further delay I give you the next chapter!**

**Chapter Thirty-three**

The normal gray Russian sky was painted with abnormal purple hues signaling the end of the day. It was around this time of dusk that Erik and the old grandmother arrived back home.

"I was beginning to wonder about you two." Mia smiled as the two came in through the door. "I hope you were not too offended by such a crude manner."

"Mia-la." The Baba smiled. "Shame on you for thinking such things. Erik is a wonderful gentleman!"

"Actually Baba I was referring to you…" Mia smiled embracing the elderly woman. "Just teasing of course."

"Not to worry, I suffered no permanent damage." Erik assured.

"If you two are going to lounge about by the door," Nitsee said poking her head out of the kitchen. "Would you mind going out to the barn and getting an extra lantern for the dinner table?"

"What happened to the lanterns we used last night?" Mia asked.

"Your mashugina nieces put them away and now one has disappeared."

"Not a problem Mother. Erik? Would you accompany me to the barn? I believe you have not seen it yet?" Mia smiled, walking outside.

"So…How was the market with Baba?"

"Your grandmother is a very…unique woman. I see a lot of her in you…now that I think about it." Erik commented choosing his words carefully.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Of course."

"This is our barn." Mia smiled pulling back the old wooden door.

"…I hope you're not expecting me to gasp in aw at the amazing architecture…" Erik sighed observing the poor structure.

"You should know by now Monsieur, not to judge a book by its cover." Mia smiled.

Erik entered the barn observing every odd and end. The structure seemed more like a cluttered attic than a place to keep farm equipment. Aside from the brown cow in the small stable Erik could not spy any other thing that made a barn a barn. Lanterns and other house hold items were littered around the perimeter. Along the floor stacked were trunks and trunks covered in straw and dust.

"Your grandmother's things I presume?"

"And her mother's and her's." Mia clarified, choosing a lamp from a shelf. "We have all sorts of things out here, don't we?"

"Yes, however, the piano my dear is most intriguing." Erik spotted walking up to the instrument.

"It used to be in sitting room." Mia sighed. "But after grandfather died we moved it out here."

"So your grandfather was a contractor and a musician?"

"Oh-no!" Mia waved. "My father's father was the one who played. I always found it strange."

"What is?" Erik asked, his black-gloved hands gently stroking the ivory keys.

"My grandfather died only a few weeks before Peter was born. And yet, Peter took to music just as if grandfather had taught him, himself."

"I do not find that strange at all." Erik shrugged, his fingers playing a few light scales before jumping into Mozart. The musician was half way through the introduction of the melody before he felt Mia embrace him from behind. "Thank you." She whispered into his shoulder.

"What ever for, my dear." Erik paused, turning his masked face to see her better.

"Putting your music on hold. You endured a lengthy worth of horrible travel just to spend a few days with complete strangers and I. The day after tomorrow…we will again endure the horrible travel back to Paris. You have done me a favor so unheard of, and you put the things you love on hold without a second thought."

"Mon Deiu, Mia! Do you not realize that you are among 'the things I love' as you put it? What can I do to get that into your mind?" Erik inquired turning around to rest his hands on her shoulders.

"I would answer, but I'm afraid you've again rendered me speechless."

"Then if you would pardon me Mademoiselle, I wish to take advantage of that." Lifting up the bottom of his mask, Erik freed his lips to catch Mia's. Wanting more of the contact, the artist's fingers slid up about to remove the rest of the mask when-

"Pardon me?"

Erik turned around, pulling his mask down so fast he almost hit Mia's nose.

"I'm sorry," Peter said sticking his head in the door entrance. "…I didn't see. I just need to put the horse up."

"It's alright Peter." Mia smiled at her brother while smoothing down her skirts. "I guess I better get that lantern back to Mother." Mia picked up the object and began heading out the barn when she noticed Erik was not following. Turning around she noticed her lover was standing next to the piano no intention of moving showing on him.

The artist smiled, continuing out the barn, only stopping to ruffle her sibling's hair.

"You must see something in her that the rest of my family doesn't." Peter sighed, leading the animal into the empty stable.

"As far as your family goes, I believe your grandmother sees it, as well as you."

"Yes. You're right." The dark haired youth smiled tending to the horse.

Erik approached the stable, extending a hand to the animal to pet its long face. "You keep the cart he pulls outside, I presume?"

"Yes. Not enough room to keep it in here. Besides we use the cart six days out of the week, it doesn't have time to rust."

"I'm sure it would after your father retirees. You after all have no intention of becoming a butcher…"Erik stated, petting the horse's neck.

"I guess I did make quite a display at dinner last night, Monsieur. I apologize." Peter sighed, bowing his head.

"Don't. I see no reason for you to be sorry. You just clearly stated that you have no intention to do something you loath. You should have some pride in that."

"Should I?"

"Of course!" Erik insisted. "Lots of it! All artists have to be prideful to some degree. Otherwise they cannot accept criticism that they will eventually have to endure. Speaking of criticism. Play." Erik demanded pointing to the piano.

"I-I beg your pardon?" The young man stuttered.

"You heard me boy, I want to hear you play. I hardly have time to stand around while you regain your composer. Your sister and I leave the day after tomorrow, I am running out of time you see." Erik clarified walking over to stand by the piano.

Seeing the boy not move a muscle Erik sighed. "If it pleases you to know, I have been playing since I was much younger than you. I was also a music teacher…for a short time…before I met Mia."

"No! I did not doubt you Monsieur! I just…" The brown head bobbed, as Peter surrendered himself to Erik's will. Walking over to the piano, the young boy sat gently on the old wooden stool. "I haven't played in a while…"

"You're lying. This piano is in very great condition and is well tuned. I also heard you playing last night after you walked out…Now play."

"What should I play?"

"The question is; what can you play?" Erik corrected.

"I have become very good with Mozart."

"Yes, it is always Mozart. Do not get me wrong! I am fond of his music myself! It is also true any Parisian employer would want you to play Mozart, but do not play what can come so easily. Play me what you have trouble with."

The young adult nodded, cracking his fingers before beginning the melody.

Erik immediately recognized the piece as Bach's Fugue in G minor. The artist waited patiently yet sternly until the boy had finished the entire piece before speaking.

"That is what I meant by being prideful in your work. You were so afraid of my criticism that your fingers shook. Do not be afraid, boy. Also you'll be a hunchback by thirty if you keep up that sort of posture. You played that entirely to fast, which I am going to assume was because of your nerves. I want you to practice that piece until dinner. First, however, play your G minor scale thirty times. You were missing the key. I expect improvement when I come to hear it after the meal. Happy practicing." Erik nodded his farewell heading back towards the house. He was already half way outside the barn when he heard the familiar G minor scale being played.

**Personally I thought my old band director was horrid, however I can only imagine what it would be like to have Erik as a music tutor!**

**Erik: Dare to imagine?**

**/Shudders/ For once I pity Christine. Thank you so much for the reviews! We are so close to 230! I just want to think everyone this story would not have made it so far without you guys! Thank you! See you guys sometime next weekend after spring break! Erik and I are hitting St. Augustine!**

**Erik: The first drunken college moron I encounter gets punjabbed.**

**Then it's a shame my room mates will not be present…**


	34. Lessons and warnings

Thank you for the reviews! They are the conveyer belt that keeps this story going! Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot!

**Erik: Chapter thirty-four**

Soft notes of Bach's melody continued to drift into the night air. Peter's young fingers moved freely yet cautiously along the ivory keys, careful to impress their new tutor.

Catching brief glances out of his peripheral vision the young man watched his tutor remain as still as a statue as he continued his playing. Ending the final aria Peter let the final notes linger before facing Erik fully to receive his judgment.

"Much improvement in the key, but you are still rushing some of the areas. Remember the tempo. You are playing more lagato than allegro. Do not drag it out, play it lively. Do you understand? Now again."

Peter returned to the keys without even giving a nod to confirm he understood. He was somewhat surprised of himself for suddenly listening to the orders of a practical French stranger. Part of him, though, continued following the instruction wanting to impress the strange masked genesis.

Bringing the last of the dishes into the kitchen Mia could not help but smile. She knew from when she first left Erik alone with Peter that the two musicians would bond. After dinner the two had returned to the barn to no doubt indulge themselves again into their sacred bliss of music.

Watching her mother begin to pump water into the sink, Mia began to help her clean the dishes.

"Peter and your masked man seem to be getting along well." Nitsee commented.

"His name is Erik, Mother. I believe he's helping Peter practice."

"…I need to talk to you about that Mia. What you have done with your life, the decisions you made were yours…but Peter needs to-"

"Mother." Mia interrupted. "Please allow me to speak first, otherwise we seem never to get around to what I wish to say."

Watching her mother nod, and continue washing Mia sighed and began. "As far as Peter goes, what he wishes to do in his life is just that Mother. His life! I have not influenced him. He simply chose to follow an artist path. Did you ever think it strange? Grandfather was musical and died right before Peter was born. Peter seemed to pick up the interment as soon as he could walk to it…Then to show your support you had the thing moved out into the barn?"

"It was taking up space."

"That's dreck!"

"Watch your tone!"

"Watch your life! Watch your children's! Mother do you not think it beshet? It's meant to be…Let Peter make his own decisions…I know you were never happy or supportive with mine…But at least pretend to be for him. He's still so young…Just think of what he can do with his life. All he can become."

"Mia-la." Nitsee sighed. "Fine. I…I wont try to mislead his choice. I wont help it! But I wont hinder it either…"

"Thank you."

"But Mia, what you said before…I may not have supported your decision."

"Mother. You wanted to lay in front of the train." Mia reminded.

"Do you know how much it hurt to see my little monola leave?"

Mia sighed. "I'm over thirty, just how little am I?"

"You're always a baby to me. Regardless, Mia…I'm proud of you. You know that, right?"

"I guess I knew…I hoped you were…What made you say it out loud?" The artist asked.

"Monola, when the French- when Erik first sat at our table…I was not asking all those questions to be a yenta. I wanted to find out about him. He has so many accomplishments, however I have to wonder how proud his parents were…if they even bothered to say that?"

"He…Erik does not like to talk about his childhood. I know a lot, but it's very painful for him to mention…I know that, unfortunately, pride was one of the things his mother never felt for him."

"A shame. If only she knew he would be so successful. How much is his salary anyway?"

"Mother!"

"What? I do not have a right to know if my child is being properly taken care of or not?"

"You're forgetting I make a salary as well!" Mia argued.

"As much as his?" Nitsee beckoned.

"…No…not nearly as much…and that is all I'm saying to you!"

"Alright. Anything else you want to discuss?"

"Yes. For heaven's sake Mother, let Nette marry that boy. Don't let her become an old maid just because I'm not married yet. She is willing and able. Let her!"

"Of course we're going to let her marry the shoe maker's son! Why would we wait for you? You're so far away. You could marry, and by the time the announcement came to Russia your sister could have gray hair."

"Now I know who Nette gets her lovely charm from." Mia rolled her eyes.

"Don't be cross with your mother! All I am saying, Mia-la, is I would never hold that away from your sister."

"Then why does Nette have the impression that you want to hold any engagement out?"

"Simple her dowry. Your father and I do not have as much as we would like to give our new family. Anything of value is in your Baba's trunks, or the piano. Which I would never sell!" Netsee hurried catching her daughter's glare. "So tell your mashgina sister not to worry, and quit sending you to settle her mind. You seem like you have more on your plate when it comes to long engagements…"

"Mother." Mia sighed. "I am not engaged. There is no ring on this finger."

"Do you not think that is the first thing I checked when you walked through this door? All I am saying Mia-la is that you, unlike your brother and Nitee, are not as young. If you want-choose to, of your own mind, experience marriage…which I strongly pray for…you may wish to consider making your choice soon. If you wish to enjoy more things…"

"What sort of things?"

"Well…I would like to see some grandchildren before I die."

"You have three already!"

"Not from you! The clock is ticking angel…"

"Baba was around my age when she married. She did not have children into later in her life!" Mia argued.

"Yes, but your forget Mia, I am an only child. Two younger siblings…dead at birth…that is why I married so young…I wanted a family…give yourself options Mia. Do not close yourself into a corner of celibacy. Look into your French man's eyes, know from him there is nothing worse than living a lifetime alone."

"…As long as I stay by his side…I wont have to."

I really didn't mean to make it so sappy…Was it? I had all intentions of making it lighter, but sometimes the drama just gets the better of me. So give me your feedback. I love the reviews phans you really keep me going. I also hate to say this, but should I?

**Erik: You act like they care what is going on.**

**Thanks… Anyway guys with every chapter from this point we're getting closer to the end. Don't worry, we still got a way to go and there are lots of twist that lay ahead. You think I would leave our two stars in Russia?**

**Erik: I would also like to hear the Daroga's tale on taking care of my lovely little lady.**

**You know I wouldn't deny you that pleasure…Please review! Till next time!**


	35. Departcher

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Oh, I can't believe how far this story has gone! Thank you to everyone who kept it going! Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! I'm sorry for updating late last week. Did anyone else have trouble uploading last Friday to Monday? I apologize for the format in my author's notes, I was just so relieved the chapter loaded and you phans were able to get it. So without further delay, I give you**

**Chapter thirty-five**

The morning was still as the women of the Sclar home sat at the table having their morning tea. The men had left an hour before to open and run the butcher shop, and Erik was still upstairs asleep. However, the little feet running down the stairs soon interrupted the stillness.

Lena and Hali landed at the bottom of the stairs in skirts and tumbles each out of breath.

"Aunt Mia, we thought you left already!" Lena gasped.

"Were you and Mr. Erik not leaving today? You wouldn't before saying goodbye right?" Hali gasped.

"Of course not girls." Mia reassured. "Our train leaves this evening. Peter will be by this afternoon to give Erik and I ride closer to town. I would not even think of leaving without saying goodbye to my two favorite nieces."

"It's a shame you could not stay longer." Nette sighed.

Mia shook her head. "Thank you for the sentiment Nette, but my place is in France. Besides I doubt you would wish to share a room with me again."

"You've been a lovely room mate this visit. With Mr. Erik in the house you were hardly in your bed at all…Oi!"

Mia elbowed her sister. "Quiet Mother and Baba are in the kitchen!" She whispered. "The woman could hear us whispering at night from downstairs!"

"Oh please! You're a grown woman, you have rights!"

"You say that far too casually Nette. Anything you care to share?" Mia asked raising her eyebrow.

"You first Mia."

"Sisters!" Alexandra shushed, gesturing to the two girls who were watching them with wide eyes. "Will you please try to mind your mouths around my curious daughters?" She pleaded adjusting the new infant in her arms.

"I apologize Alexandra. Girls?" Mia asked. "Nette mentioned that she showed you how to milk Booka? Why don't you two be dears and go bring us a half pale."

"…But why can we not get the milk from Mother just as Isaac does?"

Nette immediately broke out into laughter and Mia soon followed managing to sputter out for Alexandra to answer her daughter.

"Because…"The blushing woman paused. "Because…because she is your Aunt Mia and she asked you to fetch it from the cow, now go and get it!"

The two youths nodded and immediately left the house for the barn.

Nette and Mia continued to giggle only receiving a glare from their eldest sister. "It is not funny!"

"Oi!" Nette smiled. "I think it was! Mr. Erik? You were standing there long enough to hear, did you think it was funny?"

Mia stopped her laughing and turned to see her masked lover standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"…All I care to say Mad-Miss is that children are curious creatures, and it is hard to hide the truth from them. They will find out the truth on their own eventually."

"By the way. Mr. Erik?" Nette stood. "I wanted to apologize for our first meeting the other day. I-I was angry at something else and allowed it to vent out on you. I apologize."

Erik remained still, golden eyes slightly widening through the mask. "There is no need Miss. All has been forgiven. I apologize for any inconvenience my presence has been to you."

"It was not, and there is no need for an apology, Monsieur." Nette smiled before going out the door to watch her nieces.

"Did you sleep well?" Mia inquired handing Erik a cup of tea.

"Yes. Thank you." The phantom accepted drinking the steaming liquid. "My dear, what of our arrangements?"

"Peter will be here this afternoon to take us into town. Our train leaves at seven, but we should arrive early enough if there are changes."

Erik nodded taking another sip of the tea. "Are you packed, my dear?"

"Yes, you know I did not bring much."

"All a matter of opinion, Mia."

Mia gapped flabbergasted. "Are you implying Monsieur that I pack too much?"

"Are you implying Mademoiselle that you travel light?"

"Well if I do not I apologize that it was such an inconvenience to you!" Mia huffed, mocking anger.

"Please know my dear that when it comes to you nothing is an inconvenience." Erik stated.

"Will you two just kiss and make-up already." Baba sighed coming out of the kitchen. "It sounds just like the arguments I use to have with your grandfather. Woman travel in excess your grandfather was such a schmuck when it came to that. Never could understand what was unimportant to him, was a necessity to me. I remember one time when he…"

Afternoon approached fast and soon the family found themselves outside their front door wishing Erik and Mia off.

"Goodbye Mother." Mia sighed feeling her life being squeezed away in her mother' s embrace. "Goodbye my Mia-la. You will write to me this time wont you? Not just a few weeks notice to your next visit alright?"

"Yes. I promise. I love you."

"Love you too angle. Erik?" Netsee gestured. "Come here."

Erik was surprised when the Jewish woman embraced his stiff frame. "I'll say this only because I know it's not a secret to you. She loves you, and I know you love her. So put my worrying heart to rest and promise me you'll take care of her."

"I promise you Madam. I will."

"Good. Because if you hurt her I will kill you."

Erik wanted to laugh. "A woman wed to a butcher. I'm sure you would have no problem disposing of my body. However, Madam, I assure you that if I hurt Mia in anyway, I would gladly face death myself." 'If she only knew that the one time I hurt her, I was so close…'

"Monsieur Erik, Mia. I don't mean to interrupt but we should get going." Peter suggested taking the ranges of the horse.

"Right." Mia smiled. "Goodbye Baba."

"You write Mia-la."

"Yes."

"Erik. You write too!" Baba insisted.

"Thank you." Erik whispered, kissing the top of her pale hand.

"Thank you."

After bidding her sisters and nieces goodbye, Mia and Erik boarded the cart and were on their way.

"What waits you two in Paris?" Peter asked.

"We're beginning production on 'The Magic Flute'." Mia informed, "You know the score to that don't you Peter?"

"Yes. I do."

"Your brother was kind enough to play me a few excerpts from it Mia. Your skills do need a bit of tuning, but you are well on your way boy." Erik critiqued.

"T-thank you Monsieur…What sort of work awaits you at the Garnier?"

"I am going to be starting on a new production myself…It needs some work, but I expect it to emerge sometime in the next year or so…If everything goes according to plan."

"What are you working on?" Mia questioned. "A new opera?"

"Perhaps it is in a way…It has been building for a while now. The acts are coming and going, but it still holds one's attention. The climax is building, Mia. In my mind I see a perfect cast. Although the ending is still not clear to me, I know I have found my opera. And its beautiful score is one I plan to play for the rest of my life."

Arriving at the train station Peter bid the two farewells.

"Keep practicing. I assure you the orchestra at the Garnier always needs a fine pianist."

"And if they already have one, Monsieur?"

"It will be taken care of…"

"Goodbye Peter." Mia smiled embracing her brother. "In the barn, inside the piano is a third of all my salary. The choice to come to Paris is yours. It should not take you very long to earn the rest if you keep saving." She whispered.

"Mia?"

"I'm not trying to influence you as mother believes. But if you wish to make a choice it is only fair that you have enough assets to make a proper one. Whatever your decision you will have a home."

"Thank you Mia. Thank you Monsieur Erik. Safe trip!" Peter waved walking back to his horse and cart.

Mia sighed turning around to embrace Erik. "Thank you."

"Whatever for? I told you there is no inconvenience when it comes to you."

"Thank you for being you. For being with me…Erik, I-"

"It's nothing." Erik gasped closing his eyes. "I am just grateful that you wished for me to accompany you. That is a gift in itself Mia. Come now, we should board the train. I do admit though I am somewhat happy to be heading back to my birth country. Although we slept in the same bed I felt as though I never saw you. I was slowly going mad."

"My family tends to have that result on people. But now that we are heading back, there will be nothing to stop us from being together all day long."

"Yes, my dear. However, I am not sure I will be able to go without you through the long course of the train ride…"

**Leaving Russia and heading back for Paris! What is awaiting the two once they return home? Both Mia and Erik have production to get ready for!**

**Erik: Let us also not forget what became of Daroga and my beloved feline.**

**Find out next time! Please read and review!**


	36. A sharing of travels

**235 reviews! Thank you so much everyone! I can't believe how fast this story is going! Despite everything else in my life that is going by faster than a cheetah on speed, I'm glad I get to sit down and share my writing with all of you.**

**Erik: Clarify something for me? You're back is so knotted you have limited mobility of your neck, because you have done nothing but write for your professors…and you're writing again on your own free time? **

**Yup! Do I have your respect as a dedicated artist?**

**Erik: And a lunatic…but I'll at least do the disclaimer for you. She owns nothing except for any original characters and this fiction based plot. Anyone caught stealing will be punjabbed.**

**And believe me he's just dying to hang someone…**

**Chapter thirty-six**

Erik's eyes remained closed as he tried to hang on to the last moments of sleep. Pulling the sheets tighter around the phantom tried desperately to absorb back into mattress were he could be free of all life. 'I dare say I'm growing use to this damn cot'. Allowing his sunken eyes to open Erik remembered he was no longer in Russia. He was back in Paris…back home.

Looking around the Louise-Phillip room his mind began to absorb every detail. Nothing looked out of place, and yet he had not set foot in his own home for over a month. True the visit with Mia's family lasted only a few days, however the new rail systems moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. They were building canals in America why could they not build one through out Europe? Water was beneath almost every land surface. Erik had learned that when they first began to build the opera house.

Yes, the train ride was simply too long indeed. Even though the two had shared a private cart Erik still felt robed of any privacy. The time between Mia and himself had been spent close, but with restriction. When the two artists had arrived back in Paris the night before, Erik had all but thrown Mia over his shoulder and ravished her.

Erik had briefly noted that the house seemed in order. Two cats were sleeping on the sofa. His organ was right were he left it, neglected for longer than it had ever been. As much as Erik wanted to play, he had other needs to attend to first. Clothes were removed, the bed was turned down, and love was made. Although music was the first love Erik had ever had, he was learning that he needed a woman's love to meet his mental and physical needs. Half a century he had lived without a woman's love, now he merely told himself he had much catching up to do.

After touching was shared, and sentiments were whispered sleep had taken them both away. Now Erik lay in bed with Mia curled against his side. Brain lay curled up on her pillow, and Ayesha the same on his chest. Just as Erik decided to spend the rest of the day this way the bell for the lake went off. 'Damn it Daroga…I told you we'd return by the fifth.'

Careful not to wake Mia, Erik gently rose out of bed. Ayesha yowled at being disturbed, as Erik picked her up to move her.

'My little lady were you always this heavy?'

As Erik was leaving to get dressed a slight feeling of jealousy came over him. Usually Ayesha would follow him around whenever he rose for the day. Instead his small lady had resettled herself under Mia's arm.

"Traitor." Erik muttered.

Hurrying into a shirt, trousers, and mask Erik met Nadir in the drawing room.

"Welcome back." The Persian greeted. "I trust your travels went well?"

"As well as expected we were delayed in Poland, but only for an hour."

"So?" Nadir continued. "How was it?"

"I will never set foot on a train again." Erik retorted.

"I meant Mademoiselle Sclar's home."

"I will never set foot there either, unless I find means of travel by road or boat."

"Erik do not play games!"

"Tea Daroga?" Erik smiled, heading to the samovar. 'I forgot how impatient he can be…I do have a lot of catching up to do…'

After lighting the samovar, Erik sat across from his friend as the water began to boil. "She has a very unique family."

"Unique good or unique bad?"

"I mean unique. It was…refreshing. Watching an actual family move in live under one roof. The house though I found slightly cramped. I wont even mention the architecture. Mia's grandfather might have been an architect but that house is at least as old as I am. The building materials have come a long way, on windy nights I thought the wall would blow over on me. But I must say regardless I felt welcome with their hospitality. Certainly the best treatment I have ever received from strangers."

"Are both her parents still alive?"

"Yes…I did not see much of her father. He and his son-in-law were kept mostly away with their business. Though it does not matter. If I were seeking approval in any way, my friend, it would be from her mother…"

"What do you mean?" Nadir asked.

"I find it rather amusing, as traditional as a Jewish home might be I learned that a woman's role is very modern. It was very clear the message I received from her when I first set foot in her home. It was her house, and my gender did not give me any role of authority over her. I dare say for a second I felt as though I was eight years old in my own mother's presence…but Madam Sclar was more kind…more humane. They treated me like a normal person Nadir, as though without a mask. Even Mia's young nieces, no higher than your knee, did not gawk in the slightest bit."

"Speaking of the mask…"The oriental began.

"Not a word…not a single comment. Mia's younger sister at first seemed…hostile…but I do not hold anything against her. She apologized for her rudeness…you can imagine how strange that sounded to my ears…"

"You speak of so many encounters!" Nadir's jade eyes widened. "How many people live under that roof?"

"Mia's parents and grandmother, Mia's younger brother, Her older sister with her husband two children and an infant."

"Plus the two of you." Nadir shook his head.

"It does make one more claustrophobic than they would feel on a cramped train. But, never once did I feel horribly inconvenienced. Mia's brother, Peter, was an interesting meet."

"Oh?"

"He is still a young boy, but his musical talent exceeds his age. Mia did her best convincing him of coming to live in Paris…"

"What was your reaction to that?"

"I told him, if he keeps up his skills as a pianist there would be a job for him in the orchestra. After auditioning and a small note to the management."

"Erik-"

"What?" The phantom shrugged. "Daroga, I still do not see why you continue to hold this grudge about my chosen life. I simply wish to help a young talented man pursue a career. That reminds me I believe we are soon to begin production on _The Magic Flute_."

"I can understand that soon Mademoiselle Sclar is going to be busy designing the sets…but what is to keep you occupied?"

"I have a project of my own that is coming up."

"I should think so." Nadir sighed. "That Belgium fellow came by my home and handed off a letter for your. It's from a bank in Rouen. What are you planning Erik?"

"Did you bring the letter with you?"

"No, I'm sorry. I left it at home."

"Good. Leave it. I will retrieve it myself." Erik rose going to check on the tea.

"What plans require a bank in Rouen?" Nadir persisted.

"We will speak no more of it here." Erik hissed. "Do not mention it! I can hear Mia getting up." He whispered. "We'll discuss it later."

As Erik finished preparing three cups of Russian tea, Mia entered the drawing room. "Good morning." She greeted nodding to Erik. "Monsieur Khan I thought I heard you out here. How have you been?"

"Very well, thank you. Erik was just telling me of your visit. I trust all was well back home?"

"Nothing seems to have changed." Mia smiled. "I wanted to thank you for taking care of our felines. I hope Brain was not much trouble."

"The orange one was not at all. It is from my personal experience Mademoiselle that animals reflect their owner. Therefore allow me to clarify that your animal was not the one that nearly gave me a stroke."

Erik merely took a sip of his tea ignoring the comment.

"Really?" Mia inquired. "Since we arrived back she has been nothing but nice in my presence."

"As I said, they reflect their owner." Nadir chuckled.

"Good news then, Ayesha obviously seems well-fed from when I last saw her. Perhaps then I will maintain a normal body weight." Erik sneered.

"You were actually eating more than once a day at my mother's home." Mia reminded. "As someone 'not trying to seem rude' you certainly did enjoy a few servings of Baba's soup. You even drank our wine."

"Wine, my dear?" Erik turned around handing her a cup of tea. "That was not wine. It was squeezed blackberries and water."

"Now you know why I only have one glass of your spirits." Mia smiled. "Too much of your fine French grapes tend to make me tipsy."

"I think I would like to see you tipsy my dear…It would be rather amusing…"

"Well we know that is why I am here Erik. Simply for your amusement." Mia smiled.

"I didn't mean to imply that, that is the only reason I care for your presence…Without you who would build my sets?"

"Are we not the comical one today? I do think the time difference has made you tad mashugina this morning…"

Nadir sat back and watched the two play each other. It was both an interesting and wonderful sight. Despite all the mock arguments the two seemed to put on in front of an audience, Nadir knew that privately the two were as close as two could be.

**Yea! Back in France! Please read and review! Help us get to 240! And of course look for the next update when we find out what exactly Erik's new project is! Still more to come people!**

**Erik: Please read and review.**


	37. A glimpse of plans ahead

**So many reviews/Does her happy dance/ **

**Erik: You will stop that now…STOP IT!**

**/Stops/ What? Sorry thank you so much phans! I just wanted to remind you that I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot.**

**Erik: Read and review**

**Chapter thirty-seven**

"Darling if we continue I fear I shall be late for work…" Mia warned leaning in to give Erik one more kiss. The two had been playing one more kiss, in Mia's quarters, for nearly ten minutes. "If this continues I shall have to return from your home to work unaccompanied."

"Unthinkable. I do not mind escorting you." Erik insisted leaning in to catch her lips once more.

Mia pulled away. "Yes, but I do not wish to get on bad terms with the management." Mia sighed, kissing her lover again.

"_I _am the management, my dear. I assure you, you are doing nothing wrong. What you are doing is very pleasing…" His lips caught her neck.

"How am I benefiting the theatre though, Monsieur? Besides we already spoke of your authority with the management and my career. They are two separate things…Good day." Mia parted with a kiss.

"I need to-" Another kiss.

"Leave-" Another kiss.

"Now-" Another kiss.

"Goodbye." With a final kiss Mia left Erik's embrace and opened the door. "See you tonight."

Erik smiled pulling his mask down. As they say, business before pleasure.

Knocking on the door of Nadir Khan's flat, Erik was quickly shown in my Darius. Walking into the first room Erik took the seat next to the fireplace, across from his friend.

"Good morning." The Persian greeted sipping his coffee.

"Good morning. Where is my letter?"

"Fine and you." The oriental sighed, picking up the envelope from the small table and handing it to Erik.

"A little tired and overwhelmed with things to do. Thank you for asking." Erik replied running his thumb under the wax seal. Opening the envelope, Erik yellow eyes scanned back and forth as he read the contents.

"Good…it's still there." He mumbled.

"What is?"

"Just a little inheritance Daroga…from someone I never knew…"

"Someone from Rouen, I assume?"

Erik laughed. "My dear Daroga you do jump to conclusions pretty fast, don't you? Tisk, tisk. Did anyone ever teach you what misfortunes come to you when you assume too much?"

"Erik." The Persian sighed. "What is this all about? What connection do you have in Rouen?"

"I was born in a small town just outside of it, if you must know."

Nadir smiled. "So that's the place. After all these years I finally know."

Erik shrugged. "I did not see much point in telling you. You knew I was born in France. Why would you care about the small damned town of my birth? That information would be of no use to you. The only person in that town who might even know of me could be dead by now." He sighed, unaware that he had begun to rub the scar tissue around his wrists.

"Anyway." He sighed shaking his head. "As I said no interest to you."

"Until now." Nadir corrected. "What are you planning?"

"I am planning to make Rouen my home again."

After leaving the Daroga's, with his letter, Erik returned back to his home below the opera house. Now sitting at his desk, the craftsman began to exam Mia's designs line for line.

"My dear, you are a brilliant designer…but a poor architect." Thinking about it now, Erik was surprised how well they got along. Usually when artist are put in twos there is always conflict. One person will end up criticizing the other. Even Erik knew his mild critics had been mind shattering to other designers; Mia had handled his judgment very well.

Turning back to his own work Erik began to compare his and Mia's blueprints. One of the few changes Erik had to make was in the archways. Special beams would have to be laid over every door, making the ceilings seem higher than necessary.

'More room for a dining chandelier…' Erik shrugged.

Checking the hour Erik realized he should have already left to escort Mia back! Muttering a curse the genies rolled up both sets of plans before locking them in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Grabbing his cloak Erik noticed the two felines curled up on the sofa. Brian slept with his head resting on his paws, and Ayesha lying on her back. Erik frowned at her slightly larger belly. 'No.' He thought. 'I'm imagining it.'

Heading out the door Erik took his usual path to Mia's assigned quarters. After heading up the underground stairs Erik was more than surprised to find Mia standing in the third cellar. Quietly sneaking behind the phantom whispered in her ear.

"They say the opera ghost lurks in this cellar, my dear…You should not linger here alone."

"Perhaps I linger because I am not afraid of the ghost…" Mia smiled turning around to face the apparition.

"Oh?"

"I am in love with him." She smiled.

Erik sighed and closed his eyes. She had told him before she loved him. She whispered it several times when the made love, and every night before they fell asleep. Erik was partially shocked, this was the first time she had said it directly to his face.

"Darling?" Mia questioned gently shaking his arm.

Erik snapped out of his daze. "My apologies, my mind was elsewhere. What brings you to the third cellar?"

"I knew the Garnier Opera House had performed _The Magic Flute _before. I know this cellar is used to store old sets and props I just wanted to see if anything could be salvaged. However, it appears that all the sets are growing mold. As much as I hate to ask for more funding, I think it would be more logical than the cast and crew in its entirety becoming ill."

"A valid point. I'm sorry my dear, but the last performance of that opera was over two years ago, and it is rather damp here. Speaking of which I think it best we both return to a warmer shelter."

"Agreed." Mia smiled. "Home then?"

'Not yet,' Erik thought. 'But soon enough…'

**Yea! Done! Sorry to say, but this story is wrapping up! Don't worry I don't plan to end without at least one more cliffy and a good Epilogue. We had so many reviews! Dare I say we may make it to 250?**

**Erik: You know what happens when you assume?**

**I was not assuming I was guessing…and hinting…Thank you so much guys I'll see ya in the next chapter!**

**Erik: Please review**


	38. Unexpected confrontation

**Hello friends. Tonight I write this chapter not just out of my normal Erik filled passion, but as a time consumer. I need the mental stress release. My dearest friend Elly is currently in the hospital. She has been severely ill with a stomach virus, and now a CAT scan shows us a blood clot in her neck. We will not know the MRI result until tomorrow. Until then our hearts and minds remain heavy. If you could find it at all in your hearts to simply say a prayer to whomever you believe in, I would be most grateful. I believe God, the Goddess, Allah, Isis, a goat, or whatever energy or force is up there hears the same prayers, and hopefully answers them. Thank you very much.**

**Chapter thirty-eight**

"That is ridicules! Why would you deny us the proper funds?" Mia fumed. The mangers had not reacted well to the knowledge of the new sets for the upcoming production.

"We already gave you funding for the sets Mademoiselle Sclar. If you do not recall, you, yourself, sent Theo to our office. We gave the sceneshifter the funds which he used to buy the very supplies you requested." Monsieur Richard reminded. "That was only one production ago!"

"Exactly." Mia clarified. "Last season. It's January, Monsieur, a new season, a new year! I've been told that the last production of_ The Magic Flute_ was over three seasons ago! I inspected the old sets from the last production, but they are not salvageable."

"Define, Mademoiselle, not salvageable." Moncharmin demanded.

"The sets were growing mold! They've been in a damp cellar for three years, see them for yourself if you prefer…" Mia trailed off. She was slightly surprised to watch the mangers pale slightly. Most people would avoid the third cellar entirely just from the rumors of the opera ghost.

"Regardless, Mademoiselle Sclar, I'm afraid it is not in the budget. I'm sure the mold will dissolve…It really is harmless. I'm sure to a woman things like that are looked upon differently, however as business men we have to take into consideration-"

"First of all _Gentlemen_, I am your employee. The salary I receive is given to me as if I were genderless! My gender has nothing to do with it. Next, have we not learned anything from the past? We know now with 19th century science that mold is a potential carrier of sickness. What would be more harmful to the budget, new sets, or replacements for your workers who are in the infirmary? And lastly sirs, as far as the budget goes, perhaps you could contribute more to the sets if you contributed less to your painted woman and casinos!"

"You dare to accuse us of embezzlement!"

"I am accusing you of being liars!"

"We do not care for such accusations Mademoiselle." Richard stated.

"Nether do we care to give funding without sufficient evidence that you are in great need of new sets." Moncharmin clarified.

Just as Mia was about to open her mouth several chorus girls screamed behind her. Mia turned around just in time to watch one of the backdrops come crashing down. The yards of heavy fabric thundered onto the stage, causing the supporting sandbag to dangle in the air.

"My God, Theo! What in God's name happened? Who was stationed on that pulley?" Moncharmin demanded.

"None of my men, sir." Theo smiled. "…Besides that backdrop was stationed on the far row. No one goes up there. You'd have to be a ghost…"

As the managers began whispering to one another, Mia's eyes glared at the fallen backdrop. 'Erik.'

"Mademoiselle Sclar?" Monsieur Richard began. "Perhaps…the funding for the sets is still negotiable. Perhaps we can speak of an estimate after the weekend?"

"…That would be fine Monsieur. I'll stop by your office then." Mia spoke, keeping her voice monotone.

Watching the two leave Mia sighed turning around to find Theo standing next to her. "That a way to show 'em! I've never seen anyone stand up to the managers like that before. Except maybe Madam Giry! With the ghost on our side, we can really turn our department around! Congratulations Boss!" Theo beamed, taking Mia's hand from her side and shaking it.

"Maybe we do have the ghost on our side, but it would do him good to know we can reach perfection on our own." Mia mumbled.

"I can't remember when the ghost pulled out a stunt like that over something as small as set funding! It's like you're one of them Christian prodigies with the wrath of God on your side!"

"I follow the Jewish faith, Theo, and it would do you good to remember that ours is a vengeful God."

After everyone had called quits for the day, Mia made her way back to her dormitory. She remained on her bed sketching the final designs for the production. While adding the final touches three familiar knocks echoed from the floorboards. Repeating the pattern briefly with her foot, Mia continued her work.

As Erik ascended from the trap door he felt slightly bewildered as Mia made no effort to greet him. Walking up to her, Erik craned his neck to look at her sketches.

"Those are for the final act? It will be nice when you add the pastels. With the slightest drop of color one can truly have an idea of how the sets will look once built."

Mia sighed closing the sketch in its leather binding. "That will have to wait. I left my pastels in the Louis-Phillip room."

"Shall we?" Erik offered extending his arm.

Mia gave no response, and silently took the masked man's arm.

Halfway threw the fourth cellar, Erik began to notice Mia's silence was not due to fatigue or creative thinking. Her shoulders were hunched and her posture reflected that something else appeared to be bothering her.

"My dear, among the many talents that I posses…I must confess I am not a mind reader."

"Then one of your talents must be hypocrisy."

Erik stopped walking. "I beg your pardon?"

"Am I getting my French mixed up? You said you understood how important my work was to me."

"Go on."

"I told you myself I could handle my position on my own. I did not need the assistance of any opera ghost!"

"My dear you have your job, I have mine. I was simply making sure that everything in my theatre runs perfectly. If it bothers you so, then convince yourself that I did this more for me than for you." Erik settled and began walking.

"You don't understand!" Mia struggled keeping Erik's pace. "Ghost or not, you are recognized as a man! The managers do not only pay your salary and follow your orders out of fear. You have to admit they respect you to some extent."

"Yes. The respect me, out of fear." Erik clarified.

"Yes, but I don't have that Erik. I have to fight for any respect in my employment. When I was arguing with the managers I was not only trying to gain their respect, but everyone else's. Even though Theo respects me, the rest of the sceneshifters still have trouble taking a woman's orders! I was winning that argument! If I had succeeded I would have held the respect of everyone in that auditorium! Now all the credit for the new funding goes not to me, not even to you, but a ghost."

"You are being completely irrational! Your conversation with the management was going nowhere! The two are so pig-headed you would have had more success stealing the money from a bank vault!"

"You're missing the point Erik! It is nearly impossible for a woman to gain any respect in this sort of career. The only other woman I work with run around in practice uniforms spreading rumors of the opera ghost!"

"Well you do not spread rumors about the ghost, my dear. You just choose to share your bed with him." Erik spat.

"I share my bed with you Erik, a man! Not a ghost, a man! How long do you intend to keep up this farce?" Mia demanded.

Erik stopped, turning around to look Mia in the eye. "Not much longer my dear. However, to make the full transition from ghost to man there is something I require. Something I planned to obtain tonight!"

"Forgive me, Monsieur, but I am no mood to lie with you tonight."

"It is not in my interest to couple with a woman who is angry with me. Besides with these events I question if you would even consider my request."

"What request might that be?"

"Marriage."

**I think I'll stop there for tonight. I warned all of you about the cliffhanger in the last chapter so don't be too angry. It does however ensure reviews, even if they are from a bunch of angry phans calling me an evil lady.**

**Erik: But you enjoy that…**

**Please remember I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot. Please read and review.**


	39. Dreams

**Thank you so much for reviewing! I would like to let everyone know that my friend Elly is out of the hospital. The clot has dissolved, and she should be back to her old-self in no time. Thank you to all of those that offered your support and words. I am almost reluctant to write this chapter, as we are close to the end. I am sending my baby out into the world. It no longer needs me…Erik now I know how you felt after completing the Garnier Opera House.**

**Erik: Sucks doesn't it? She owns nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot.**

**Chapter thirty-nine**

"Marriage."

Mia felt as though her brain had disconnected itself from her body. One minute she was fighting with Erik, and now he was… 'Did he just propose?' In all her dreams and thoughts of what Erik and her were to be, not once did she imagine this. She could picture them, in her mind, living together, happy together. Not once did she imagine a ring on any finger, a white dress and canopy, or Erik stomping on the traditional glass wrapped in cloth. Darkness tinted itself around these images until all Mia could see was black. Suddenly the artist was aware of Erik calling her name, before her head made contact with the floor.

Erik sighed as he continued to dap Mia's forehead with cold water. It seemed he had made a tradition of causing woman to faint when he declared his undying love to them! Why had Mia fainted? One moment her temper was flaring enough to rival his, and then she crumbled to the floor. He had only spoken the truth. Along with his gift to Mia, Erik had planned to ask for her hand as well. The artist's day had been going almost perfect until he decided to take his short cut home.

He had just slipped his managers a new note and was taking the high route home. Walking along the catwalks and rafters Erik overheard Mia's tiff with the mangers. Hearing their ridicules excuses, and ungentlemanly tones, Erik was surprised he had not dropped the new chandelier onto their heads. Instead he did his ghostly duties and persuaded them towards Mia's cause. She was right; after all, the two spent a good deal of the opera's budget outside of the Garnier's doors.

If anything Erik expected Mia to be happy about the new funding. Instead she was angry with him. Angry with _him_! He was just trying to help. It was his responsibility as O.G., but as Mia stated her reasons for being upset Erik realized he had been wrong. Fearing she would hate him for trying to help her, he pulled out his final trick. The very trick he was saving for his final performance of the evening. He wanted to propose to Mia properly; instead he had yelled his intention at her as if it were a threat. Now Erik did not even know if Mia wanted to be with him.

"I can see why you fainted my dear, the thought of being married to a horrible monster such as myself if a frightening one."

"…You're not a monster." Mia moaned, opening her eyes slowly. "Have I not told you to stop calling yourself that?"

"Any man who can cause a woman of your brilliance such horror is certainly a monster." Erik sighed.

"I was not horrified, you just caught me off guard."

"That makes two of us."

Moving to sit up slowly Mia noticed the leather back sofa was resting on four sturdy wheels. "Darling? Did I hit my head or was there always a brougham in the cellar."

"We're in the stables my dear, but I'm afraid you did also hit your head." Erik stated rubbing his thumb over the back of Mia's head. "It's a small bump, but not a concussion. You're not dizzy are you?"

"No…I didn't realize the Opera had stables."

"The horses are mainly for labor. Except for Cesar here." Erik gestured to the white Arabian in the closest stable. "Who gets his occasional performance in _Le Prophete_."

"Erik why are we here?"

Shrugging his shoulders her lover let out a frustrated sigh. "This was part of how I had this evening planned. Until our quarrel."

"…We didn't quarrel…You just violated my trust."

"Would you care to explain, Mademoiselle, just how I did that?"

"Do you recall the conversation we had after we first made love?"

"…What does Christine have to do with this?" Erik demanded.

"No! Before you left that morning! You told me, Erik that you understood how important my work was to me! How you understood I wanted no special treatment. You broke that trust. I trusted you to understand how I feel."

"I do understand how you feel! If you will let me carry out my plans for tonight Mia, I will show you how much I understand you."

"I know you understand me Erik. I'm just not as confident you understand what is important to me." Mia sighed.

Erik held his breath. "What are you saying? Are you trying to tell me you wish to end everything?" He whispered.

"No!" Mia gaped. "Erik. We're having a misunderstanding, that's all! Do you know how many quarrels Alexandra and Demetree had before they were wed…Surely you must have had these arguments with Christine."

Erik slipped his mask off, and reclined his head back. "Although no words were ever spoken, this was our biggest conflict." He sighed gesturing to his face. "If you care to know, most of our arguments consisted of my yelling and her sobs. On occasion I was honored to receive her Prima Donna tantrums…but you know the ending of that opera."

Wrapping her arms around Erik's thin frame and resting her head on his shoulder Mia whispered. "I'm not her. I wont leave you. Let me love you, as she should have. Let me love you as you deserve to be loved."

Feeling the dampness gather in his eyes Erik leaned forward until his forehead met Mia's shoulder. "…I love you. Please forgive me for earlier. I was wrong to interfere."

Mia's lips ghosted over his left sunken eye. "Lets forget about earlier. Take me out for brougham ride. Finish whatever you planned to do tonight. Pretend nothing has happened."

"…I warn you, it is a long trip."

Nearly three hours in a brougham was not what Mia had expected. At first their trip had started off in silence. The only noise on France's midnight roads, were the clotting of Cesar's hooves. At one point Mia had dozed into a light slumber against Erik's shoulder. The two of them remained on horseman's bench. Erik keeping a lose hold on the ranges, never once showing any sign of wariness.

"Long trips by horse do not tire you?" Mia asked, shortly after waking up.

"I use to travel by horse for weeks at a time, usually at night around this hour. It does not bother me. I apologize for the journey, but fear not we're almost there."

No longer than ten minutes after saying so, Erik tugged on the horse's ranges until they were completely halted. Stepping down from his seat, Erik offered his hand to Mia and escorted her down from the cab.

Taking his arm Mia walked with Erik around the carriage. All Mia could make out in the dark was land. All that was in front of them was empty property. The last house and building Mia remembered seeing had to be at least twenty minutes away.

"Erik, were are we?"

"This…is one of the things that I was ever given by choice. As you know my mother and I were never…comfortable…with each other. She hated me… When she died, however, I was given something of a shock. I was her only child…and instead of giving her possessions away to her dear friend…she gave them to me. I never even looked at my inheritance. Most of it is sitting in a bank vault here in Rouen. I have not touched a franc of it until now. The deed to this very land, was passed down from my grandfather…It's good land. Secluded enough for my taste…sturdy enough to ensure yours…"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's as you said before. I had the chance to build my home and live in it. Now Mia, I want the chance to build your home. I have been reviewing your plans since before we left for Russia. I have made only a few minor adjustments, but the designs now read to support an architect's plan. I have already made contacts with contractors I once hired many years ago. You forget I once built normal homes, for normal people. I want to build one final home Mia. I want to build your home…and I hope it could also be our home."

Mia's breath hitched as soon as she noticed the metal band that had been placed on her finger.

Erik brushed his thumb gently under Mia's eye, removing the moisture that was collecting there. "Will you let me build both of our dreams?"

Mia remained still her tears continuing to roll down her face. Reaching her hand up to wipe them away, she smiled. "As long as we can continue to build them together."

**Too cheesy? I don't know. I was getting kind of wet-eyed back there…but it could be PMS…**

**Erik/Winces/ Must you?**

**Sorry. Let me know what you think. Please read and review. **


	40. Epilogue part I

**Hi out there! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while….but…the truth is…/Starts sobbing uncontrollably/ I don't want my story to end/Blows nose loudly on Erik's cravat/**

**Erik/Grossed out beyond words/ Sigh…there will be other works…**

**What did you do after you finished Don Juan Triumphant?**

**Erik: …I died…**

**Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!**

**Erik: She owns nothing; just get on with the bloody chapter!**

_I couldn't believe nine months had passed so quickly. True now as I stood here in all my old years my life, though painful during its most parts, seemed to be a blink of an eye. A small dark shadow on the incredible euphoria I now lived in with my wife. _

_My wife._

_All that I had ever desired, all that I had ever hoped for, prayed for was upon me. Now here I pace back and forth across the upstairs hall Nadir's eyes following me like the mad man he knows I am. The damnable smirk hasn't left his face since I first informed him that Mia was with child…My child…Our child. _

"_I should be in there!" _

"_It isn't right, Erik. Besides the mid-wife knows what to do."_

"_The hell she does. I who have studied the human body know all the occurrences of what happens during labor. To her bloody Christian ignorance the placenta is merely the bulk of evil-of sin being spewed out! Mid-wives have no knowledge of the human body's actual functions and purpose!"_

"_No need to be so graphic my friend. It's just nerves."_

_Oh it was nerves! I had convinced myself I had every right to be nervous! How could I have been so careless to conceive a child when I have this damnable curse to pass down to it! Things had occurred so fast. It only seemed that this very house was being built last month. _

_Less than a week after Mia had accepted my offer to build her home, and my proposal, we were wed. The ceremony had been, in understatement, small Daroga our only witness. I did not care if a priest or a rabbi married us. I had no identity and had to forge a certificate of marriage to make our union as legal as possible. I respected Mia's wishes and modern thinking and offered her the chance to keep her own maiden name._

"_Do you not have a surname Erik?"_

"_My dear the choice to keep your name is yours. I would understand and respect your decision to keep it."_

_She gave me the same smile she first gave me when I volunteered to take her to Russia. "I respect you. I want to be your wife Erik. I want to belong to you, in all ways."_

_That week she stood under a small canopy and became Mia Destler. My mother had done her best to isolate me from anything outside of our home, but I shall not forget the day I found a letter addressing her as Madeline Destler. I learned my surname at five years old. I kept it a secret for forty-seven. _

_The week after our marriage I left for Rouen to begin work on our home. Even though I trusted the contractors I once worked with I did not want her plans in anyone's creative hands but my own. Just as I had worked on the Garnier, I worked liked a madman. I came to the construction site at dawn and was there till well past midnight. I still feel regret that I was barely by my wife the first months of our marriage. I would flee to Paris every few Sundays or when a new production was finished. Together we sat in box five for the final times and I was still marveled by her set work. _

_It wasn't until the end of opening night of 'The Magic Flute' that I first noticed the problem. Returning to her opera dorm I watched her lips set in a frown as she began to undress. _

"_Are you angry with me?" That was always my first question in these situations. The last thing I wanted was to assume she was upset at something, when she was upset with me. I had previously learned that always made her mood worse. _

"_Why would I be?" Her brow rose. Sighing softly she sat next to me on the small bed. "As much as I am looking forward to living in Rouen there is no opera house there. I can not very well make the trip from Rouen to Paris every day. I just began to realize recently that my days of set designing are almost over…I'll miss it." She smiled softly._

_I was at loss for words. All I could offer her was my embrace. I was ashamed to admit the idea of her career being over had never crossed my mind. I had been ignorant and pig-headed to assume she would be delighted to perform normal duties as a wife. Maybe sketching for entertainment beside me as I played or composed, all I could do was put it in the back of my mind. I would not have an answer for her problem for another month._

_I had been working on the roof when Jules called me to come down saying someone had come to talk with me about the house._

_He was a plump balding man with an aging face. Jules must have explained to him that I wore a mask, because his shock seemed mild. He reminded me of the clients I used to work for when I built ordinary houses for ordinary men. In fact, that was the reason he wished to speak with me. He wanted to know if he could over bid whoever had purchased the home I was working on._

_I explained it was a gift for my wife and not for sale._

"_Are you the architect that designed it then?"_

"_I am an architect, but the credit for the design and planning goes to my wife Monsieur."_

"_A woman, eh? I've never seen anything like it. The structure is so unique." _

"_So is my wife, Monsieur."_

"_Does she by any chance design for a living?…Because I would be willing to pay a great deal to live in a home similar to this style."_

_If I had eyebrows I would have raised one. _

_After speaking with him I asked him about a time frame. He was surprisingly patient, and understood construction and designing took time. _

"_You two were married recently? I would understand that she would want to be settled before she picked up on a new career."_

"_On the contrary. She would be delighted to start as soon as the last stick of furniture is in place."_

_I visited Mia in person to inform her of Monsieur Dumas' offer. She was to put it lightly, ecstatic about the idea of her first commission. She thanked me in ways common decency forbids me to record…but her thankfulness is important for my memory. I believe it was this night that our title as a family was be bestowed._

_Two months later we were living in Rouen trying our best to live as normal life as husband and wife live. I was satisfied enough with my work as a contractor. I kept the plans just as they had been only adding the slightest details for structural purposes. It was a two-story, not to large, home. Quaint to us on the inside, by fascinating details outwards that frequently got us offers. I left business to Mia; it was her time to shine. I only helped her mathematically wise. Helping her develop accurate structures in blueprints and helping her to decide what was a poor price and what was beyond extraordinary. _

_Although I did not have very much use for money now, the phantom part of me was disappointed on just how fare Mia accepted offers._

"_A few thousand francs more would not have hurt." _

"_I do not design for money. The last few commissions and what we've saved from our salaries get us by more than well."_

_As ludicrous as it sounded I understood. There is no true price for an artist's work._

_Only three weeks after we were settled was when I began to notice changes in Mia's demeanor. Her sleep habits were the first to change. She started retiring an hour earlier than normal and sleeping considerably late into the day. Her eating habits were also becoming incredibly lacking. _

"_You can go ahead and have the rest darling…I don't have much of an appetite."_

_I accepted her words each day with disbelieving nods. It wasn't until she vomited one morning that I realized she was truly ill. I assumed it was merely a small virus and not something along the lines of tuberculosis or anything fatal. I wouldn't allow myself to think such thoughts. If it were I would only pray it was contagious. If she died I would follow her immediately. _

_I prepared a small infusion with peppermint to help calm her stomach, which she surprisingly refused._

"_My dear, I assure you it will help cure anything. Just a basic health remedy you see."_

"_I don't think that will cure me Erik." She sighed taking a seat on the velvet sofa. _

"_You do not trust in my abilities of the health field?" I demanded surprised._

"_Why is it when I refuse or deny something you put words into my mouth and jump to conclusions. What happened to the Erik who was always so self competent."_

"_He married a woman who had no faith in him."_

"_I have faith in you to be a lot of things Erik." _

_From her tone, she had not just paid me a compliment. I believe I growled in frustration, we had been having these quarrels over the past few days. "Why are you acting like this?" I demanded. "You are acting irrationally towards me no matter what I do. Why are you acting this way?"_

_Her eyes filled with tears, and even though she sobbed out her answer her voice remained clear and strong. "Because Erik, that is how a woman with child tends to act."_

_I don't know how long I stood there. I remember my mouth opening and closing trying to form words. Now matter how much I tried, however, I could not seem to make contact with my larynx. Eventually Mia left and headed for our bedroom. A place I assumed I was not invited to for the night._

_Instead I spent the night as I had many before. Underground. Although from ground level up the house followed Mia's plans. Below in the cellar was the evidence of my own. It was a simple basement cellar that the contractors have assumed was for wine. Although we did keep our spirits there my organ also occupied that room. I lost myself in music, all the while reflecting on what had transpired. _

_True Mia was still in childbearing years, and I, as a man, could go on creating children for the rest of my days. The idea, though, had never occurred to me. We occasionally used French Letters when reason had not completely given way to passion. Passion though did always tend to out weigh thought when it came to our intimacy. I must have played through the night, though I barely noticed._

_The clock said noon when Mia came down the cellar stairs and sat next to me on the organ bench. "Do you plan to spend the rest of my pregnancy down here? Because if you do, you might want to bring down a loaf of bread and a bit of cheese."_

"_My dear how can you expect me to be capable of words in such a time?"_

"_You just spoke."_

"_Mia…"_

"_Erik…"_

"_Please forgive me." I begged._

"_For your actions last night…or for what grows in my womb." Mia whispered._

_I swallowed, fearing what I knew was her regret. She didn't want the child…it made perfect since. "You don't want the child."_

"…_You would…not wish for me…to have it?" Her voice dropped a few staff lines. Her eyes widened and tone was hushed._

"_That is what you are saying." I tried to clarify. "It makes perfect since you would not want my cursed seed in your belly."_

"_No more than you would want a decent soprano to sing the lead in 'Faust'!" _

_I released the breath I wasn't aware I was holding. "You wish to have it…to keep it?"_

"_What did you think?"_

"_That you would wish to dispose of something that could resemble me in any way." I motioned to my naked face._

"_I will never understand the part of you that goes on in self loathing. I don't think I ever can…I don't want to. I don't want to understand how the man I love with all his talents can still feel so afraid and inconfident over such a small matter as his face."_

_I opened my mouth to protest, but she stopped me._

"_Or how he could even conceive the idea that his own wife does not want the child he has given her, because it may resemble him."_

_That was the end of that. I was too ashamed to admit that every second I was left to ponder the child, I would ponder on who it would resemble._

_Now here I was nearly seven months after our conversation in the cellar. Mia had been in our bedroom with the mid-wife for nearly six hours. I was going mad. It wasn't until this last month that I even considered the affect the birth would be on her. I was beyond ill with worry. What if she didn't make it through the birth, and I was left to raise the child alone? What if they both didn't make it and I was left alone with nothing. No blood-link. No heir. No love. _

_Just as I was drowning in the ocean of my thoughts a cry pulled me back. The cry of a child…and the cry of a woman, I lost care of tradition and modesty as I ran into the room. _

_The mid-wife stared at my masked face eyes widened with fear. I walked over to the screaming lump of blankets on the bed and pulled back the first layer._

_I now understand the grief that had fallen upon my mother when she first gazed at me. No amount of meditation or effort could have prepared me for such a sight I knew was worse than my own. _

_There was no face! Not even a thin layer of skin pulled tightly of the skull. I watched the child wither and scream. I watched the blood vessels leak the crimson liquid onto our bed with no epithelial tissue born to hold the liquid back. The cartilage was so transparent around her cheeks with every pulsation I could see veins running beneath the tissue._

_The anguish was too much and I cried out so loud my voice went horse. I looked at Mia, my sunken eyes as wide as they could stretch with grief. What have I done? What have I done to make a child so cursed as I? Why do You keep on punishing me? Did You not redeem me with love enough, oh God in heaven that You would send me a cursed child to remind me were I stand! Would You punish my wife as well! Is this her punishment for bedding a monster such as I?_

_That is when fully took in Mia for the first time since the birth. Her skin remained white and wet. Her breath barely hitched out of her lungs as I flew to her side. "Mia!"_

_All I could hear was the baby continuing to scream behind us. She coughed, and turned to me, my heart stopped at the sight of the blood dripping from her lips. Her eyes took me in one last time before rolling back into her head._

_I was enveloped in darkness the child's cry fading in the background; the only clear sound was my voice calling out for her._

**Review and I promise not to make you all wait to long for the second and final part. Hope you all enjoyed and were shocked beyond belief. But I promise its not over completely. Please review.**


	41. Epilogue part II

"_Mia!"_

_I continued to cry out into the darkness that now clouded my vision. I could not see or hear a thing. Was this Hell? Was my miserable life now over? It should be…I had lost all that was dear to me…This is only right…I should die were I was born, in darkness._

"_Erik…"_

_The voice of an angel…a voice so beautiful…I reach out for it only to embrace nothing._

"_Erik…" It's becoming louder. It's so familiar, but I cannot place it. My body is so heavy all of the sudden. I open my mouth to call to it, but my words fail me._

"_Erik…" I feel someone behind me. They put a hand on my shoulder._

"_Erik…"_

My eyes snap open and all I can see is darkness, then after a few minutes of adjusting I began to make out things. The desk, the lamps are all in their rightful places of our bedroom…our bedroom.

My head turns and my heart stops…there is Mia…alive. In the darkness I can see her brown eyes wide as they watch me. Her hair is messed from sleep and her hand rests on her swollen belly still full of life.

A dream…it was all a dream…I weep.

I can feel the warm salty water pouring out of my eyes in relief…and in fear. A dream or what may come.

"Erik." Mia is immediately concerned. "It was just a dream, darling. Just a dream."

"My God Mia. The child. It had no face! There was no face! I could see it, worse than my own! I could see every vein, into the very skull itself!"

"…Was it a son or a daughter?"

I choke on my breath in my throat and cannot stop myself from staring at her.

"What?"

"Was the baby a boy or a girl?"

For a second all bewilderment leaves me and I want to laugh. "Is that all women truly care about, the child's gender? My darling, did you not hear me? I said the child did not have a face! What will you think when your darling daughter is born as grotesque as I? Or a son, forced to live the same fate as I? A child born with intelligence and talent only never to be able to attend a university because of the horror of his face?"

"You and I were both home taught, we turned out fine. Besides if are son does attend a university that will be his decision not ours."

I stared in amazement of just how lucid Mia spoke. She was serious.

"Darling," She sighed. "Do you see my point? I do not care what face this child has. I will love it regardless. Wont you?"

"Of course I will!" I answered. Raising my hand I cupped her right cheek. "My darling, how can I make you understand how I feel about this child?"

"I know how you feel Erik. You're worried. You've been worried since the day I told you I was with child. But Erik, I have been waiting for you to admit it to me. I just don't understand after all this time why you still bottle your fear from me? I am your wife do you not trust me? Are you afraid to show me your fears? I love you Erik. Please do not shut me out."

That moment in the darkness is when I truly began to see her glow. They say that all women experience this light of wisdom when they are soon to be mothers. This light of love and wisdom like some ancient goddess I think this is the moment I loved her the most. True once I was in love with Mia I was always in love with her. As I sit here now though, looking into her eyes of trust and love. Feeling the warmth of the life within her belly. No, this was not the same love I fell when our bodies are joined together or when I took her as my wife. This is the truest love I have ever felt in my existence. I know now, she had truly accepted me, all of me, and what I have helped bring into this world.

"I am sorry, Mia. I have been holding my doubts and fears aside. I do not know if it was to keep them from you intentionally or because I was so damn ashamed. I can sense the euphoria you have been feeling these past few months. Your heart full of motherhood. And I being a loathsome coward pitying myself for what rests in your womb. Forgive me for being such a fool."

"There is nothing to forgive…Just promise me, Erik. What ever goes through your mind will not stay there for long. Look at all we have faced. The outcome is much easier when things are faced together, right?"

I embrace her as tightly as I can, still mindful of her condition. "I promise, and I promise to love this new life regardless of all. Just as you have done for me."

Our child was born on a Sunday. The day started off in its normal routine. Taking a break from composing I went into the kitchen to find Mia. As much as I preferred composing at the organ, I had taken to playing on the piano in the drawing room the past few months. Mia's agility was becoming less and less, and I did not wish for her to walk down the cellar steps for any reason if she needed me.

Walking into the kitchen I was greeted with an amusing sight; Mia trying to retrieve a fallen knife on the kitchen floor. Instead of assisting I leaned against the doorframe. Mia had grown very agitated about her independence these past months and insisted that her ability to not see her own feet should have nothing to do with her inability to perform daily tasks.

She noticed me at once and seemed more determined than ever to pick up the knife. Turning her back to the counter she held onto the surface with one hand as she squatted awkwardly to pick up the utensil. I was somewhat reminded the large bullfrogs I use to catch when I was a child. Grabbing the knife triumphantly she began to rise up only to stop half way.

I went to her side immediately when she grabbed her stomach and scrunched her eyes. "Are you alright?"

She nodded slowly suggesting she might rest for the remainder of the morning. She did not abject as I helped her upstairs to our bedroom. Once she was asleep I went downstairs only to discover we had company.

Since we had moved to Rouen, Nadir had made a habit of coming to visit ever second Sunday. But as Mia's pregnancy moved its course my old friend had been dropping in every week. An unspoken trait of friendship I was grateful to have. We took in coffee and I had won at our second game of chess before I excused myself to check on Mia.

Entering our bedroom I immediately noted that she was no longer asleep but hunched upright holding her stomach. Her breath coming out in short gasps.

"Is it?" I couldn't finish my question.

Mia seemed to understand before I was done, and nodded her head. I sat with her helping her back into bed and propping the pillows up behind her. After telling her I loved her and asking her to hold on I ran downstairs moving faster than I ever had in my long life.

Racing into the drawing room I threw on my cloak and hat, briefly looking over my shoulder to see Nadir's puzzled face.

"Please watch over Mia, I must send for the midwife!"

"Please take my carriage then." He insisted.

"No, She has her own means of transportation and is not too far away, besides I ride faster on my own!"

Not even in my boy years riding through deserts and countrysides had I ever ridden this hard or fast. The small town closest to us was less than half a mile away. Not even bothering to tie my horse I jumped off her and rang the bell for the midwife. Once the woman stepped out I informed her of Mia's labor, and waited as patiently as I could for her actions.

She called for her brougham immediately and began her way to our home. I rode back on my horse passing by the carriage and riding right past it. She knew were our home was. And even though a man in a mask had just demanded her audience in a home outside of the town she had not wasted a moment's time, and barley even stared at me.

Perhaps I had been too frazzled to even notice. At this point I did not care. Throwing open the door, I took the steps upstairs two at a time. Rushing into our bedroom I was relieved to see Mia quietly resting, Nadir by her side watching her.

"Thank you old friend." I whispered, going to her side.

"That certainly was fast. Is the midwife coming?"

"Yes, I out rode her brougham, she should be here soon." I remained silent after that. My hand intertwined with my wife's. I tried my best to take in everything about her. The exact color of her skin, the length of her hair…I studied her as though this was the last time I would ever see her. Why do I torture myself with such thoughts? As I was beginning to ponder the answer the midwife came in and abruptly threw Nadir and I out into the hall.

I suppose I followed the pattern of most fathers to be. I paced back in forth through that hallway more times than I could possibly count, sitting down when my legs felt they would give out, and then paced some more.

I was currently in the in-between period of sitting. All I heard from the bedroom was mumbled words of the midwife's couching and Mia's occasional cries.

"I should be in there." I stated, the tenth time today.

The Daroga shook his head at me. "It's not right for a man to be in there at this time. Besides if you were to go in there now she would only be angry with you with all the pain she's in."

"Ah thank you Daroga! With all the events from today I had forgotten to feel guilty! Thank you so much for reminding me!"

"Is it your fault that she is pain? If you were just taking in your rights as a husband?"

"I neither care or wish to argue with you right now on our different views of a woman's value, you Persian dolt!"

Standing up I noticed one of Ayesha's kittens carefully sniffing around Nadir's foot. One of the four kittens, Bast, had taken a liking to the Daroga much to Nadir's displeasure. With her father's tabby markings and her mother's colors and eyes she was a beautiful cat. Maybe I would offer her to the Daroga.

If he tolerated the company of a feline in his own home, maybe the man would not despise them so much.

Time passed into hours, and although I kept looking at my pocket watch the time never quite registered in my mind. It was just an action to help time flow faster. Faster so I would know the outcome of the fate that awaited my child.

Another hour seemed to pass when I finally heard a new cry. Closing my eyes I quietly prayed to the God I was not sure I could fully trust. Rising up silently I approached the bedroom door. Opening it slowly I found the midwife on the other side of the door on her way out. Stepping aside to let her pass I immediately went to sit beside Mia.

She looked so tired and beautiful at the same time. She was breathing so much slower and easier now than before. Her hair was pulled back except for the small strands that stuck to her perspired face. Slowly opening her eyes she greeted me with a worn smile.

"I love you." I whispered kissing her temple.

"And what about your daughter?" She smiled.

I had not paid much attention to the covered bundle that lay in her arms. Partly out of fear, partly because I wanted to see that my wife was indeed well.

Watching carefully Mia gently pulled back the blanket giving me my first glance at my child, our child.

She was beautiful. The oval bone structure and defined cheekbones that showed she did indeed have a face. Her skin was slightly translucent, but I knew it would develop pigment in time. It was smooth soft skin, not a yellow wax like epidermis that barely stretched over her skull. She was normal. She was beautiful.

Opening her eyes I knew the true wonder of being a father. The two eyes, beneath her dark locks held green, a recessive trait, with a hue of gold around the outside of the iris. Looking into my daughters eyes and then looking back at Mia I finally knew why I had been born. All my years I had believed in chance and never fate, but now I understand her purpose. We are all born with our differences and our dilemmas, and even though we may not always understand why we are put here or why things happen it is part of a plan. I knew Mia was my reason for living. The hell I had endured my entire life was a test, a test to prove I was worthy of receiving such love.

All the pain I had lived through before did not matter anymore. I had moved beyond that now. I had my purpose, my life, and my love. I was no longer the Phantom of the Opera, I was a man.

**Fin **

**Thank you to everyone who has taken time to review and made my story keep going. I would like to thank my mother for always reading, and for believing with me. I would like to thank my friends Elly and Ashlen for supporting me and allowing me to vent my creativity on them, and I would also like to thank Erik. You have inspired me in so many ways. I dedicate this story to your spirit and pray that were ever you are now; you are at peace and have found the happiness you deserve so much.**

**Thank you to all of those who believed,**

**Amanda**


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